The Recruit
by PiscesChikk
Summary: AU Joss Carter is recruited into the CIA by Agent Mark Snow and meets her new partner John Reese. Initial attraction to Reese, extreme recruiting techniques and their first mission as partners, all make her induction in the Agency a rather interesting one.
1. Chapter 1

A/N I've taken some creative licence with this fic. There are no female Navy SEALS, but in this story, Carter starts out as one. I've also taken licence with the way someone is recruited into the CIA and changed the process around a little bit. The first two chapters of this fic is basically to set up the whole story and introduce the characters as they are in this interpretation of Carter and Reese. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks to Fanu for beta services and encouraging me to actually post this. And now on to the story.

* * *

It was 2am.

There was noise – mostly celebratory shouts and cries – all around her. Joss Carter smiled on the inside, and though she kept her face cool, impassive, there was a gleam in her eye. Her platoon was jubilant. Their latest mission was complete, their target destroyed, and the two American citizens being held captive by extremists had been rescued. Their execution was to take place within the next few hours. If it had gone through, their deaths would surely have caused an international incident of epic proportions. So she and her men were sent in. She sat in the back of the helicopter with her assault rifle in her right hand and leaned back as she looked at everyone's faces.

The teacher and her husband who had been taken together, held onto each other while shedding silent tears. The wife's head lay cradled against her husband's chest, and the expression on her face was one of shock and relief. They hadn't eaten in days. Their clothing was torn in a few spots, but besides fatigue and minor cuts and bruises they were in surprisingly good health. Physically, at least. As Carter stared at her, she kept repeating over and over that she just wanted to go home. They all did, and the chopper they were in was transporting them to a plane where they would do just that.

Home. She hadn't seen home for a while. She missed it most days, but she loved what she did. She was a Lieutenant, a SEAL, and now as the Officer-in-Charge of her platoon, she'd seen a lot of action in the past year alone. She lived for this, lived for the action and the threat of imminent danger around every corner. She'd garnered the respect of those in her squad, in addition to her Commander. As one of the few women there, this was no small feat. The Navy SEALS were an all male club. But over the last few years, three women were finally able to chip away at the glass ceiling. She was fortunate to be one of them, but it had been far from easy. She had been pushed to her limits, physically, emotionally and most of all mentally. Nevertheless she'd prevailed, she was here and she was determined to give it her all every single time. She was made for this, that's what everyone told her. They recognized her skill, admired her talent. Still, a part of her deep down inside wanted more, _needed_ more than this.

"Hey, Carter!" She looked up as she heard her name called. McCain was giving her a two fingered salute, his toothy grin bright, and she smiled in return. "Congratulations, Lieutenant."

* * *

Reese sat next to Snow in the darkened room of the safe house. They'd been looking at footage for the last hour of a few missions carried out by a platoon led by Lt. Jocelyn Carter. He watched her moves and listened to her instructions to her men. She was quick, thought well on her feet. She was calculated, never doing anything that wasn't absolutely necessary. She was…impressive, he thought. It took him back to his days as an army ranger, dressed in fatigues, moving in the shadows. Glory days, he thought. As she flashed her smile at her team's success, as her bellow sounded at their triumphant retreat, he reluctantly admitted to himself that he liked the sound.

Snow wanted her to be his new partner. He'd been watching her for a while. Her move up the ranks had garnered his attention. Snow thought she was the perfect replacement for Tom Wilson, his most recent partner who had died on assignment two weeks ago. They'd worked together for a mere six months. He'd lasted three months longer than his predecessor. It was a running joke that his partners seemed to come with a very short expiration date. He told Snow that he didn't necessarily need or want a new partner; he was more than capable of working on his own. While Mark knew that to be true, there was a new assignment coming up. Something was brewing that he wanted Reese to be a part of, and to complete it, he'd need a partner - a female one. It looked like Jocelyn Carter was the female he had in mind.

"This is recent?" he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the screen.

Snow nodded, and picked up the unopened bottle of water in front of him. He screwed the cap off and lifted it to his mouth for a long drink.

"Retrieval of personnel," he confirmed. "Last night she and her platoon rescued...these two." Reese took the photographs in his hand as Snow slid them across the table. The portraits showed a middle aged white couple in one photo. In another, there was a screen shot of them bound and gagged, lying on the ground as their captors stood above them.

"Teachers," Snow said. "They were hostages for a week."

"I imagine they're more than ready to get back on American soil."

"They left first thing this morning."

"When is Carter heading back?"

"In the next two days. She'll be hanging around the base till then. Why don't you watch her close up? See what she's like, figure out if you two will get along." Mark got up, stretching his arms and legs.

"Does her Commander know you're looking to recruit her?"

"He knows we're looking. We haven't confirmed anything, but I'm pretty sure he knows why."

"When do you plan on telling her?" Reese's voice was low, and he idly rubbed the stubble on his chin before folding his arms to his chest.

"When we go back to New York. She's due for a bit of leave, and we can talk more in the city."

"Alright," Reese said, getting up. He moved out of his chair and switched the footage off. They'd seen enough for now. "In the meantime, I'll see what she does in her down time."

"Good idea. I'm going to disappear for a few hours."

Reese moved to the back of the building, and to his living quarters. The cot didn't look too inviting tonight and he was tempted to stay at a local hotel. He had the money, and the lure of a luxurious mattress was enticing right now. Maybe later, he thought, but he got dressed in work-out clothes, sneakers, gloves, and grabbed a towel. He had a feeling he'd see her at the gym on base.

And he was right. Though the place was packed with a good amount of *The Green Faces, he spotted her among them right away. She was on a mat doing floor exercises; lunges, hamstring curls, squats, and pushups. Her reps were intense, her work out hard, and by the way her body moved in the racer-backed tee and work out pants, it paid off. Her body was a thing of beauty. Curved but firm thighs, her deltoids, pectorals and abs were cut and chiseled in all the right places. She was perfectly toned, but still perfectly feminine. Her hair was pulled back from her face, caught in a ponytail in the back. Without the mark of camo paint on her face, and sans her head gear, he was taken aback by her delicate features and how striking she was.

She got up from the mat and reached for a jump rope. Within seconds she was jumping, the rope alternating from being swung over her head to under her feet. Beads of sweat formed on her shoulders and stomach, and a thin line of perspiration formed about her upper lip. Her full mouth was open, and she was breathing through it. She increased her speed. Once again, he was impressed. She didn't seem to do anything half way, not even exercise.

* * *

"Jason," Carter called out to Miller beside her. "Who's the guy over there?"

"Who, Carter?" he asked, looking around.

"The guy who just walked in. About 6' 2", slight salt and pepper hair at his temples, a bit of scruff going on, intense stare. Who is he?"

She thought that he looked familiar, and she gazed at him as he walked over to the weights on the other side of the room. She hadn't missed him watching her earlier. Hadn't missed it in the least. He wasn't a SEAL, but he sure as hell wasn't a civilian. She was willing to put money on him being some sort of military. She wondered which one. She continued her work out, and checked him out while he did a few bench presses.

Jason looked at him for a while, but didn't recognize him either. "I honestly don't know, Carter. Want me to go ask?"

She smirked at his weak attempt of finding out if she was attracted to or interested in the guy. Though she was sure she recognized his face, though she was sure she had seen him around before, she wouldn't go so far as to say she was in fact interested.

"Nah, I'm good. But why don't you go spar with him."

He scoffed at her request, but as his Lieutenant (O-3), he didn't want to deny her.

"Go on J, show him what you got."

She crossed her arms, while Jason approached him. She cocked her head as she saw him nod in agreement and the two of them entered the ring, gloves on. A few people gathered round to watch.

Her mystery man had Jason by a few good inches. His reach was longer and it was stronger. But Jason was a SEAL, and not to be outdone, he got in quite a few shots himself. She was proud of him for holding his own.

_**Who was this guy?**_ she wondered again. His moves were sleek and controlled, his face and eyes were focused. He seemed to plot out every move like he'd done this a hundred times before. Even his breathing seemed perfectly timed.

But who was he and why was he watching her? Almost as if he had been privy to her thoughts, he turned then and cast his gaze on her. Even though she'd briefly caught his attention, he didn't miss the punch that Jason threw at him just then and quickly deflected it.

She was sure there was a smirk on his lips, even though it appeared for the briefest of moments. He knew she'd been aware of him, just as she'd known he'd been watching her. His next barrage of punches was swift and he succeeded in knocking Jason to the ground. He reached down to help him up, and his eyes met with hers. An eyebrow shot up almost as if he was asking if she'd seen enough.

She gave him a brief nod in return, but turned her head so he wouldn't see her smile. She had to admit that now even if she wasn't interested, she was at least mildly curious about who he was. The match was still going strong; a second round so Jason could have the chance of knocking his opponent on his ass in return. Carter picked up her water bottle and towel and left the gym.

She didn't see Reese's eyes watching her retreating back. His gaze remained on her until she disappeared from the room.

* * *

"So she made you." Reese wanted to knock the smug look off Snow's face.

"I wouldn't say she made me. It was more of….an acknowledgement. She knew that I was watching, and she wanted me to know that she wasn't ignorant of it."

_**She**_ _**also didn't seem to mind either**_, Reese thought to himself.

"You've got years of training on how to blend in, and she noticed you were following her."

Reese shrugged as Snow shook his head. "She knew I was there, but she didn't know why. She was….curious. She sent one of her men to spar with me."

Her interest was piqued. Reese knew it the moment Jason Miller had walked over and asked him to spar. She wanted to know who he was. She probably assumed he was military, but she didn't know what branch. Jason Miller was simply a means to satisfy her curiosity about him.

She stood watching them with her arms folded, and he could almost feel her eyes on him every time he threw a punch. She wanted to see what he could take, what he could give. She wanted to see what he was capable of. Of course with his combat training in the CIA, if he'd wanted to he could have laid Miller flat on his back in a matter of seconds. But a part of him wanted to show her what he could do, wanted her to see his abilities even though they were restrained in the gym. She hadn't stayed till the end, but the brief look they exchanged and her curt nod before she left was satisfaction enough for him to know that she liked what she saw.

"She's very intuitive. She's got good instincts. She's proven that time and time again," Snow said.

"So?"

"So….I think it's time we made contact," Snow replied, rubbing his fingers along his face.

Reese took a deep breath, nodding in agreement. Carter had been in New York for a few days and they'd just arrived. He hated the safe house they were in. He hated the location, hated the setup, but most of all he hated the smell. It reeked of sanitizing chemicals, the kind used to cover up just what they did here; retrieval of information by any and all means necessary.

For a few days, he just wanted to forget this place. He wanted to get out and see the city. It'd been a while since he'd been back on American soil. There wasn't anywhere he could sincerely call home now, but whenever he came back here to New York, he could pretend this place was it. If only for a short while.

He listened as Snow questioned her on the phone. After it was done, she'd agreed to meet with him in Midtown and Reese fought to contain a smile that came unbidden to his lips. He couldn't explain why, but he was looking forward to seeing her again.

* * *

A/N *The Green Faces ~ one of the nicknames of the SEALS.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Carter finally meets Mark Snow face to face. She and Reese have a brief conversation.

Disclaimer Nothing you see here belongs to me.

* * *

New York.

No matter how many times she'd been here, each visit felt like the first. Carter was always amazed by the energy and life that permeated the very air of this city. It was positively pulsating with opportunity. She loved to walk through Times Square, stare at billboards, and drop a few coins into the hats of performing musicians and artists. She loved the food, the fanfare, and the heart of the people. Though she was born and raised in Washington D.C., New York for some reason always felt so much like home.

She was in town only for a few days and was staying with her friend Amanda. They'd known each other since they'd enlisted in the Army together. Amanda had come home from Afghanistan, but unlike Carter who'd gone on to the SEALS, Amanda studied law and was now working in the D.A.'s office. She had a son, a husband and a beautiful house in the Bronx. After her recent mission, Carter appreciated the short period of down time. She was enjoying Mandy's company and was happy to be just an ordinary citizen for the time being.

Two days into her trip she'd gotten a call one afternoon from an unknown number. The voice on the other end introduced himself as Mark Snow. She listened in disbelief as he told her the CIA had been watching her for a while, and that they were interested in her coming to work for them. Initially she thought it'd been a prank, but he assured her this conversation and what he was offering, was no joke. The tone in his voice caused her to sit up straight in her chair, and the hair on her forearms stood at attention.

He began a round of questions and doled out '_what if'_ scenarios. He probed her thoughts about circumstances that she found challenging as a woman in her position as a leader of her platoon. Thinking back on the conversation, she realized his questions were more behavioral in nature. He was feeling her out, trying to gauge her personality.

They talked about her work history, where she went to college, and why she'd chosen to join the SEALS. She thought of a million different ways to answer the question. She wanted to be better than she was; she wanted to further her military career. Deep down she knew it was partly an unconscious need to prove herself worthy to her father despite not being the boy that he wanted. She wanted to prove that she was just as good, even better. She could have answered in many different ways, but her reply was simple.

"I wanted to prove the naysayers wrong….and…I wanted to serve my country."

A brief silence followed her answer, and when he finally spoke, it was to give her an address in Midtown where they would meet. That was three days ago, and she stood with her hands thrust into the pockets of her jacket and stared at the entrance.

"You wanted more didn't you, Joss? That's what you've been saying for months now," she questioned herself quietly as she watched a couple exiting the café. "Now it's time to take the next step."

She pushed on the handle of the door and walked in, sitting at one of the vacant tables and ordered coffee when a waitress came over. She sat there for ten minutes, wondering if the phone call had all been a dream as she looked at her watch. Maybe he wouldn't show. Maybe he'd changed his mind about her. A big part of her was disappointed at the thought. She knew the agency was difficult to get into. Whenever there was a job opening posted to their site, they had hundreds of thousands of applicants. It took at least six months to get an interview and an even longer time after that to get a follow up one, if you were lucky.

This was a big deal. To her, it was the beginning of an experience she just instinctively knew would matter the most in her military career. For three days she'd thought about it, wondered at the training, the assignments, and the good she could do if she was chosen. She realized this was something that she really wanted, badly. She could almost taste it, and she needed Mark Snow to be here.

She took a sip of the coffee, its bitter taste passed her throat and she grimaced at it.

"God what is this?" she murmured.

"I should have told you not to order the coffee."

She turned in her seat, looking up to see two men in the back of her. One she immediately recognized from the gym. He stood a few inches taller than the other guy, and though they were identically dressed in dark suits, he was clearly better suited for the outfit. His smirk was in place, and as he sat down opposite her she felt herself flush. She was right when she assumed he was military. It made sense now that he was CIA. The mystery of the job suited him very much, she decided. The stealth, intensity and focus needed for the agency were all attributes he possessed quite naturally. She wondered which branch he'd been recruited from. Was it the Army, the Marines? She had to know.

The other guy's voice was familiar, and she assumed he was Mark Snow. He had a receding hairline, thin lips, and a peculiar look in his eye. It was the kind of look that made you wonder if you should trust him or shoot him. He wasn't as easy on the eyes as her mystery man, but though he wasn't ugly in the least, his face was quite forgettable in her opinion.

"Jocelyn Carter," he said as he sat down next to his companion and smoothed his tie.

"Just Carter, thanks. And you must be…"

"Mark Snow," he confirmed, and he reached out to shake her hand. "Sorry we're late. This," he said as her gaze turned to Reese. "…is John. You might have seen him around the base."

"Only a couple of times," she replied sarcastically. "What brings you to New York, Agent Snow?" she asked.

"Technically, John and I are _not_ in New York. We don't exist. But aside from all that, we're here for _you_, Carter."

Carter looked back and forth between them, trying to take it all in. As Snow went on about the agency's interest in her and her recent missions, she glanced for a moment at John, but was rewarded with nothing more than a slow blink. His face was absolutely stoic, and cold. She couldn't help thinking he looked as if he was on autopilot. If she joined them, if she accepted their offer, would she eventually look like that way too?

"Tell me about Nelson," Snow said, interrupting her thoughts.

Carter's eyes narrowed at the question. If he asked her about Nelson, he probably already knew the details of the incident that happened not long after she made Lieutenant. He simply wanted her side of the story so he could form his own opinion. She wouldn't be surprised at all if they'd already spoken to her Commander about it, even Tom Nelson himself.

The memory was one she would have liked to have kept in the past. However the fact that she _was_ a female SEAL meant it would follow her long into the future. Without further preamble she told him what happened.

"Tom Nelson is what you would call '_a guy's guy'_. Athletic, competitive, big ego, pretty sure of himself. He had some behavioral issues early in his military career when he first joined the Navy. Most of them had been worked out when he joined the SEALS. He had a bit of a relapse when I became the leader of his platoon. He had some difficulty being under the command of a woman."

"And how did you feel about that?" Snow asked.

"It was expected, really. If it hadn't been Nelson, it might have been some other Operator, so it came as no surprise to me. A lot of men feel a woman has no place in the SEALS, let alone be a _leader _of a team of men who feel she's inferior to them. It also came as no surprise to me that Nelson was responsible for some off color pranks pulled on me."

"Such as?"

Carter's smile was sardonic, remembering them all. Snow was watching her, every expression, and every movement. The revelation of the pranks that were intimate in nature was an attack of her femininity and her ability to lead. If she was going to get this job, she had to show them that her gender would not hinder her in any way, regardless of whether it was called into question or not. Snow's eyes were searching for flaws, so when she spoke again she looked at John. Though his expression was unreadable at first, there was something beneath the depths of his blue gaze. There was something that said he understood.

"There was a package delivered to me. A box. A box that contained a hundred yellow panties that were tied up in knots. Apparently my '_panties were in a bunch'_."

At her last sentence, Snow huffed out a laugh. It sounded weird coming from his mouth. She still looked at John and his eyes hadn't wavered from hers either. He was engrossed in her story, and her grip on her coffee cup was a bit tighter. She tried to relax. It had been a while since she'd spoken of the prank; she was surprised that she still felt so strongly about it.

"So, at a training exercise I challenged him. He didn't get the reaction he'd hoped for. He thought- along with his other friends- that I'd go running to the Commander and have them disciplined. It'd make it seem as if I couldn't handle my new position, that I was ill equipped to be their Lieutenant. But I had some discipline of my own in mind. I knew it had to be firm, it had to be hard, and it had to be public."

Carter shrugged, turning the coffee cup idly in her hands. She'd successfully gained both of their interest now. Both were silent, attentive, waiting with baited breath for her to continue.

"Of course his ego and male pride wouldn't allow him to turn me down. He fought well, but I was better. I had to be. He had good training, so I didn't expect him to go down easy. But he did go down, rather soundly I might add, and he was as embarrassed as hell for weeks afterwards. The rest of the platoon wouldn't let him forget it. I'm not one hundred percent sure, but I'm told he got a delivery of boxers not long after too."

"Were they also tied up in knots?"

It was the first time John had spoken since they sat down. She saw a gleam in his eye, a slight smile and what she thought was admiration for how she handled herself and the situation.

"Who can say?" she shrugged. "But he never challenged me again. So this job in the Agency….what's it all about?"

"It'll be the most important job of your career," Snow answered. "It'll be the hardest thing you've ever done, and if you do decide to join us, you can never go back home. Literally maybe, but figuratively, no. Your life will never be the same. You said you wanted to serve your country? This is the best way you can do that. You have twenty four hours to accept or decline the offer. After which, you give me a call at this number." He slid a business card toward her with a number scribbled on the back. "And you have two minutes to solve this maze."

"What…?"

Carter looked down as he placed a sheet of paper in front of her with a circular maze. He placed a pencil on the side of it and looked at her. She didn't have time to ask him if he was serious, because he started a timer on his watch and she knew her ability to think quickly on her feet was being tested once again.

She grabbed the pencil, staring at the lines, the curves, and for a moment paper and maze started to bleed into one. She willed herself to focus, to think of it as another mission she and her platoon was on. When the lead finally touched the paper, she trailed it from beginning to end, almost as expertly as she would if she were leading her crew to another accomplished mission.

With a few seconds to spare, she handed him the paper and pencil. His face was unreadable, he was careful not to show if he was impressed or not. He simply folded it and tucked it into a pocket of his coat.

"Thanks for meeting with us, Carter," Snow said as he stood up. He reached out to shake her hand again. "I look forward to hearing from you."

She watched as he walked out, and then turned to John as he spoke.

"Good luck, Carter," John said, shaking her hand for the first time. While letting go, she rubbed her thumb over the inside of his palm. It was rough in a few places, and she smiled. This man knew his way around weaponry.

"What were you? Army? Special Forces?"

"You don't miss anything do you?" He answered in slight amusement. When his cheeks rounded briefly, his face practically lit up.

"I have a feeling you don't either. Although I still can't quite figure out where I've seen you before," she admitted.

He towered over her and she remembered his long reach when he'd fought with Jason in the gym on the base. What would it be like to have this man in her platoon? What would it be like to watch him work, to see him hold a rifle in his big hands?

"We might have crossed paths one time or the other," he said shrugging. "Plenty of time to swap stories later if you decide to accept Snow's offer."

"Do you think I'm gonna need that good luck?" she asked as he started for the exit. He stopped and turned around to look at her.

"You don't need it," he said. It felt as if it was a difficult admission for him. "It's up to you now. You have to decide….just how badly you want this."

The stoic look on his face came back, easier than it was for him to smile at her just a moment ago. A part of her felt a little disappointed by that. As she watched him leave without another word, she realized he was right. The job was hers, even though Snow tried to be nonchalant about it. She had to decide what she wanted to do. The ball was in her court.

How badly did she _really_ want this?

* * *

The tumbler sounded on the top of the wooden bar as the last of its contents went down Reese's throat. The whiskey was good, and it was doing its job of helping him to relax. He hated being idle, it left him with too much time to think about things he needed to forget. Things he couldn't seem to get out of his mind. He needed an assignment, and fast.

The bar was dark, cigarette smoke wafted through the air, but it was unusually empty tonight. He looked up at the flat screen that was mounted on the wall and stared at the basketball game that was on. The volume was down, and the only sound in the room was coming from the jukebox, a melancholy tune. It fit the mood he was in perfectly.

It was Jessica and Peter's second anniversary. The bar was where he'd bumped into Peter, where they'd talked, and where Kara had reminded him that he could never go back to his old life again. He knew it made no sense to torture himself this way, but he needed the familiarity of pain, of rejection he felt when he thought of her. He needed some connection to her, to prove that a part of him was still human. With every mission, every new objective, he felt a part of his humanity slipping away.

Jocelyn Carter reminded him so much of what he used to be, of what he still wanted to be. She was still idealistic in nature; she still had warmth and optimism. She was still a truly good person deep down. He knew she'd make an excellent partner. She was highly skilled, extremely intelligent. She had drive and she was willing to do whatever it took to get the job done.

A part of him wanted her to say yes. He wanted to be around her, because for some reason she sparked a fire in him that had long been burnt out. But a part of him wanted her to refuse. He knew the longer she worked the job, the longer she was an agent, her innocence and what made her who she was would slowly start to erode. She'd end up becoming just like him. And he didn't want that.

The buzz of his cell phone interrupted his musings and he answered the call, putting it to his ear.

"Carter's a go. We leave for Williamsburg tomorrow."

Snow's two sentences filled him with a mixture of relief and regret. He paid his tab and left the bar, the aftertaste of whiskey in his mouth suddenly sour.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thanks for the support of the fic so far. Hope you enjoy Chapter 3

Disclaimer - I don't own POI or any of its characters.

* * *

A biting chill suddenly filled the air, and a strong breeze licked at an errant lock of hair on Carter's head. It blew across her face and she impatiently tucked it behind her ears. The heels of her boots pounded on the pavement, but their sound was drowned out by prattle, musical instruments and a throng of people that were gathered on High Street.

There was an art festival taking place in town tonight. Many galleries were open later than usual as people walked in and out of them to gaze at the different creative mediums. Sculptures, photographs, paintings and various assemblage pieces were on display to satisfy the casual art lover in addition to the learned enthusiast. Carter did her best to blend in, as she wended her way through the sea of people and walked into _Baroque_, a fine art studio. She wasn't here to look at art, however. She was on the job, and her target stood several feet across the room from her at this very second.

A painting of three faceless nudes captured his attention. He stood almost entranced gazing at the figures on the canvas. He was tall, had dark hair, and there was an intensity about him as he moved. She'd been watching him all evening, keeping a reasonable distance between them so he wouldn't notice he was being followed. He'd used his phone a few times, but apart from those brief conversations he said nothing to anyone else. The briefcase in his hand remained tightly in his grasp. The documents within, were her objective. She was simply waiting for him to get away from the crowds so she could acquire it.

As she thrust her hands into the pockets of her coat, she was suddenly forced to shift her attention to two brash teenagers who'd just bumped into her. They sputtered out apologies and gave remorseful expressions, but she cursed the distraction under her breath. When she finally looked up again, her target had disappeared from her view.

"Damn it," she muttered softly.

She scanned the room quickly, but he was nowhere in sight. She purposely strode toward the exit, looking around to no avail once her feet hit the pavement outside. She'd lost him it seemed, but she knew he couldn't have gone far. She had to find him again. Turning to her right, she left the well lit streets and headed for the darkened alley to continue her search. It was eerie, gloomy, and had an ominous feel to it.

"Something's not right," she said to herself. She could feel it with every fiber of her being.

Her hand reached instinctively for her gun at the small of her back and she turned abruptly, coming face to face with her target. Though he had a few inches on her, she raised her gun to his temple.

"You might want to put your gun down."

His voice was raspy and his tone was confident. The alley was dark, but she swore she saw the faint trace of a smile on his lips.

"And why would I want to do that?" she replied.

Her body tensed and she grunted softly, finally feeling the touch of steel against her ribcage.

"Well for one, you've left yourself wide open. I could shoot you before you even got the chance to pull the trigger."

She took a small step backwards, attempting to put some distance between them. His arm moved upward so quickly she barely had time to react and her gun was knocked from her hand. He moved to hit her in the face, but she blocked his fist and hit him with the flat of her palm right above his heart. He staggered backwards for a moment, and she raised her leg, kicking his gun out of his hand. She moved closer to him and hit him in the face, pleased when she heard him grunt. He reached out then and grabbed her wrist. His grip was so firm she couldn't shake her hand loose. She tried to twist out of his grasp, but wound up with his arm around her neck and her back to his chest.

She was pulled closely to his body and his arm was around her waist. It seemed the more she struggled, the tighter his hold on her was. It was becoming difficult to breathe, difficult to concentrate. She had to break away somehow, she thought. She moved her free hand upwards and pulled at his ears, his cheeks, but he wouldn't budge. The arm he held around her waist wrenched her hands downwards, but determined not to lose she yanked one arm away and elbowed him a few times in the torso.

"Careful, there," he whispered so closely to her ear. She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck; she felt goose bumps form on her skin. "You still need to find out where I've hidden the briefcase, remember?"

He was right. Besides knocking the smug look off of his face – the one she knew was there without even looking - killing him was secondary to her mission. She wrapped one of her legs around his causing them both to tumble to the ground. Finally with his arm no longer around her, she scrambled for the gun, putting it just under his chin. He immediately froze as she straddled him.

"Now," she said as she raised one leg and pressed her knee into his stomach. "Where did you hide the briefcase?"

Her breath was coming fast, as was his. They were both tired from the scuffle. She could hear his heart beating almost in time with hers. She felt a thin film of sweat on her brow and a cool breeze suddenly swept over them.

"Somewhere you'll never find it, I'm afraid."

There it was again, the teasing. She could feel the rumblings of a grin forming in his throat. She twisted her knee deeper into his stomach and he grunted in protest.

"I'd say we're done here, Carter. You can holster your weapon, now."

Carter relaxed atop him, then slowly got up to help John to his feet. With her gun tucked into the small of her back once more, she fixed her clothing, tucking her shirt back into her pants. It had come loose during their struggle. She smoothed her hair back off her face and watched as John attended to his own clothing.

"Well, how'd I do?" she asked.

"I think you know the answer to that."

"I wanna hear what you thought, though."

"How do you think you did?"

"Well, I lost you in the gallery for one."

"And how'd you end up losing me?"

"A couple of teenagers bumped into me."

"How'd you let that happen?" he asked as they fell in stride together and started to leave the alley.

"How'd I let it happen?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't let it happen, it just did, John."

"Nothing ever _just_ happens, Carter. You have to always, always be aware of your surroundings. Those kids could have been a decoy, a plant. Always assume the worst of everybody. Always be aware of who's in the room with you."

He was right. What he was saying was nothing new. It was routine whenever she and her platoon went out on a mission. Always check the corners; always know what you're up against before you go in. Tonight however, she dropped the ball.

"Tell me what else went wrong," he coaxed as she got quiet beside him.

"Well as soon as I got into the alley, I felt like something was off. But it was too late to reconsider; you were already here, so a confrontation was inevitable." She shrugged as they got back onto the street, back in the midst of people and under the glare of bright lights and loud chatter.

"Which you handled well, under the circumstances," he admitted. She couldn't deny that she enjoyed the praise that came from his lips. "I _did_ wind up on my ass."

"Yes, you did," she said, and they both shared a rare moment of laughter.

She couldn't help thinking that there was something special about his smile. It said so much about him, even though during the past three months of her training he'd revealed so little. The fact that it was so difficult for him to actually succumb to mirth or even a hint of happiness alluded to some deep seated issues buried underneath the surface. She wondered who had hurt him.

Everything had happened so quickly. After their initial meeting, she'd called Mark Snow to tell him she'd accepted his offer. Within days she'd travelled to Williamsburg to begin her training. It had been unlike anything she'd ever experienced, just as Snow had promised.

"Welcome to _The Farm_," Mark had said to her once she got there. _The Farm_ was Mt. Peary, the CIA'S unofficial training facility in Williamsburg. While they performed extensive background checks on her life and her past, she underwent numerous polygraphs, aptitude tests and further behavioral analyses. She was taught covert operation protocols, the art of espionage, how to blend in, and how to adequately study people and their behavior.

Physical training was rigorous. She and John sparred regularly in various hand to hand combat techniques. She learned about surveillance and intelligence gathering. It was so much that at times she was taken aback at how extraordinarily detailed the Agency was in their methods. She found interrogation methods especially chilling and gruesome. Could she carry them out if and when the situation called for it?

She questioned John about it, wondering how it'd been for him. The look on his face as he reluctantly told her about his first time was telling.

"You become someone else, Carter. Someone you never thought you could be. After a while, you look at it as if it's just another part of the job."

"And do you love your job?" she asked him.

"I don't have to love it, Carter. I just have to be good at it."

She wasn't sure she was satisfied with the answer, but right then, it was the only one he would give.

Tonight was another training exercise, one of many scenarios they'd run. She knew Snow wanted to send them out together soon, she knew the time to go out into the field was near. She wanted nothing more than to be ready.

The two of them slipped into the black SUV he'd arrived in, and John pulled out into traffic. It was time to go home.

* * *

After getting home, Reese took a shower and switched the television on. He felt restless and he didn't know why. There was something in the air, something he couldn't describe and he didn't like it.

He walked into the small kitchen, his body filling much of the space between the counter and the fridge. He opened it and got a beer. He twisted the cap off and put it to his mouth, taking a long drink. His eyes rested on the yet unopened bottle of scotch on top of the counter. His current mood called for something stronger, but he resisted the urge to open it. Instead he returned to the living room and sat on the sofa. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and propped them up on the coffee table.

Whatever was on TV was merely background noise, his mind was elsewhere. It was with Jocelyn Carter in her apartment and had been there ever since he'd taken her home. For the last three months of her training, she'd been a quick study. She'd excelled at her aptitude tests as well as her physical training. The dedication she'd shown to making the most of what she was being taught made him feel almost proud.

He could see himself in her. He couldn't help it no matter how hard he tried. He saw the innocent young boy who'd walked into the recruiting office feeling patriotic and eager to serve his country. Everything about her intrigued him, but he held back. She told him about her mother, her sister Donna and she briefly mentioned her ex husband Peter. She'd regaled him with stories of joining the army, meeting her friend Amanda and her deployment to Iraq. There was still inherent good in her and he was attracted to it more than he could say.

When she laughed, it was a bubbly resonance. It rocked him down to his core. It touched something deep inside that he'd suppressed and he couldn't deny that he liked it. He was getting used to seeing her every day; in fact he looked forward to it. She still had the ability to smile despite the new situation she'd found her in. He felt regretful however, knowing that that part about her would change all too soon.

Tonight she'd done well. He wasn't especially critical of the fact that she'd lost him in the gallery. Some circumstances were beyond your control no matter how vigilant you were in the field. But in the alley, she'd held her own, she'd thought well on her feet. And, as he'd told her, he _did_ end up on his ass.

_With her on top of him_, he thought.

He put the bottle to his lips once more and enjoyed the smooth taste of the brew as it went down. It wasn't wise to get involved with your partner. Working with Kara Stanton had taught him that valuable lesson. Things got messy at times, uncomfortable even. But tonight, he'd smelled the sweetness of Carter's perfume and he'd been tempted to kiss the lips that were so close to his own.

He downed the last of the beer and got up to get another when his phone rang. Snow was on the other end, asking about the exercise earlier this evening.

"It went well."

"Do you think she's ready?" Snow asked.

"I do," Reese answered with a hint of remorse.

"What's that I hear in your voice? Hesitation? Doubt? Is she ready or not, John?"

"She's ready."

"Well there's only one way to find out isn't there?"

Reese immediately tensed, knowing – and not liking – what Snow had in mind. He didn't want that for Carter. Not in the least. But since Snow was their handler, he had no say in the matter. Didn't mean he wouldn't try.

"Perhaps we could try a different method this time," he suggested.

"No," said Snow. "This one will work just fine. You know what to do."

* * *

Carter stood naked before the floor length mirror in her bathroom blow-drying her just washed hair. She'd come home, taken a shower, but she was far from sleepy. Despite it being a long day, she still felt wired, energetic and sleep was the last thing on her mind.

"_**And how'd you end up losing me?"**_

John's words echoed in her ears as she replayed the entire scene earlier over and over again from beginning to end. She'd liked it. She liked chasing him, watching his every move, trying to figure out what was on his mind.

"…_**always be aware of your surroundings…"**_

Even though he pointed out the things she'd done wrong, she couldn't help but think that there was a hint of pride in his voice as he spoke. Something about him had changed. She knew it. Something about her had changed as well.

_Did he hold back?_ The question popped into her head suddenly; making her wonder if he'd taken it easy on her. During their training exercises he never had, but did he simply allow her to take him down or if she'd accomplished that on her own? She shook her head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. Tonight it had been all her, nothing more, nothing less.

She put the blow-dryer down and gently brushed her now straight hair. After applying some lotion to her skin, she threw on a racer back tank top and some shorts and planted herself in front of the TV. Her limbs felt better, she thought as she tucked her legs under her on the couch.

The noise from the TV droned on, and Carter thought of her platoon. She missed them, and wondered where in the world they were right now. Someone else would be leading them, molding them, and she'd probably never see them again. She thought of Amanda, and the lousy explanation she had to feed her before she left New York. Most likely that too would be the last time they'd see each other. This job was costly, she realized. Doing what she'd be required to do for the Agency, the friends she'd have would be few, if any.

In the end, all she'd have…was her partner.

Her head turned abruptly at the sound of the doorbell, and she got up to open the door.

"John," she said in surprise. He was leaning on the door jamb, with a particularly devilish smile on his face and a bottle of scotch in his hands.

"Carter. Thought you might like some company."

It was late, Carter thought. When you added alcohol, and the two of them to the equation, the situation could go somewhere they could never come back from. She cocked her head to the side and let him in. His smile was slowly becoming her weakness.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N In this chapter, two partners share a bottle of Scotch and Carter gets her first assignment. What will she think when she hears what it is?

**Disclaimer. I own nothing you see here.

* * *

"What's with the scotch?"

The inquisitive brow was raised, the curiosity in the tone of her voice was present and Jocelyn Carter waited for an answer.

"Well, it's been a long day…and an even longer couple of months. I figure we could both use a drink tonight."

"Is that so?"

He nodded his head in response. "I had this bottle…just collecting dust on the counter. I think it's time to open it."

Reese watched as she headed for the kitchen and he followed. She took two tumblers out of the top cupboard and stood on her toes to reach them. When she landed flat on her feet, she stumbled backward a little and bumped into him.

"Excuse me," she said, looking over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he lied.

He didn't mind the contact at all, and moved a few inches out of her way. She opened a drawer near the sink and took out an ice pick. After removing the ice tray from the freezer and dropping two chunks of chipped ice into their glasses, she led him back into the living room where they sat down on the couch.

In silence he opened the bottle, poured a little into both their glasses and they took a drink together.

"Where'd you get this?" Carter asked.

She took the bottle in her hands and looked at the label. Her fingers moved over the unique shape of the container, traced the raised lettering, and she looked up at him.

"Lifted it from someone my partner and I were following in Prague earlier in the year."

"It looks expensive. Tastes expensive."

"That's because it is."

"What happened to your partner? Wilson, wasn't it?"

"Killed in the line of duty."

"And he wasn't your first."

"No."

He answered her quietly and took the bottle away from her to pour more of the golden liquid in his glass. She looked at him expectantly, waiting to see if he'd elaborate further on Wilson's demise, but that was a topic he didn't want to discuss. She shrugged when he remained silent, deducing that he wasn't too heartbroken that his partner died.

She put her glass down and reached for a hair tie that was on the coffee table. The hemline of her tank travelled upward as she ran her fingers through her hair and put it up into a messy ponytail. Her midriff was exposed, and for a brief moment he caught a glimpse of her skin. The sight of the light brown hue caused him to swallow hard.

"I miss my platoon. They were a rowdy group. Obnoxious, egotistical, downright out of control," she said.

She looked at the TV, her expression reflective.

"But they were brave, fiercely loyal, and….some of the best men I've ever had the good fortune to work with since I joined the military. They'll always have a special place in my heart."

"Have you ever lost a man?" He asked her, and she looked at him again.

"Not to death, no….but…" her eyes glossed over a minute as she spoke.

He empathized with her as a look of regret came over her face. He knew all too well the responsibility you felt when you were in command. The safety of your men was a top priority. If even one of them were lost, it stayed with you for a very long time afterwards.

"...he was shot…and lost the use of his legs. Some kid, not even twelve years old…just came out of nowhere and….."

She stopped mid sentence and swallowed the rest of the scotch in her glass. She closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to shake off the strong grip of remorse that had suddenly latched onto her.

"Where'd it happen, Carter?"

"In Tikrit. Back in 2011." She sat up straight as if a light bulb was finally switched on. "That's where I know you from. Special forces, Army….there was a unit there for a brief time when my platoon was passing through…."

"Passing through? That was around the time of…Nestor Gonzales, the dictator from….."

She nodded her head, remembering the mission to bring Gonzales back to the U.S. after he'd sought asylum with certain religious officials in a neighboring nation.

"Exactly! You had a K-9 unit too. The Belgian Malinois," she laughed as it all started coming back to her. "I knew I'd seen you before."

"You have a good memory."

"Isn't that something? After all this time, we end up here, together."

"I guess we were destined to cross paths again."

"If you believe in fate, destiny, all that. According to the rumors I've heard – from Snow - you run through partners pretty quickly. First Stanton, then Wilson."

She shrugged at his expression.

"Snow says I'm lucky number three. You don't seem broken up about the fact that your last partner is pushing up daisies somewhere. Can I assume you wouldn't care too much either if something happened to me?"

The question was innocent enough, but suddenly it seemed to carry more weight than he knew she'd intended. What he'd come to tell her was grave enough; he needed to add a little more levity to the conversation before he dropped the bomb.

"Well for one, the reason I don't seem broken up about it is because Wilson wasn't as easy on the eyes are you are. He damn sure didn't smell half as good as you do, either."

"He smelled?" She asked laughing, but he knew she did not miss the underhanded compliments in the least.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't get me wrong, now. I'm not saying he smelled, but I'd rather have the light floral scent you wear in my nose than the taste of his aftershave in my throat whenever I swallow."

She kissed her teeth and knocked him playfully on his thigh. The brief touch made him stir in his pants, but he played it off as if he was unaffected by it. They'd been sitting next to each other with her body slightly turned toward him. One of her legs was gathered close to her while the other hung over the edge of the chair. For the first time since he'd arrived, he allowed himself to openly look at her. She smelled of soap, fresh and clean. Her legs were smooth and without blemish. Her skin was practically glowing. He saw the defined muscle in her thigh, a nice indentation, not masculine at all, and the faint stir in his pants was turning into an aroused throb.

"No, you don't need to worry. There's something about you that makes me think you'll have a much longer shelf life than he did."

"You are a mess," she said laughing.

"I am," he admitted, suddenly serious, suddenly – and unexpectedly – open.

The laughter on her lips faded, the cute dimple disappeared, and she pursed her lips together.

"Who was she?" she asked.

Reese felt something in the air shift. It felt like he was being pricked with a thousand needles. It was an invitation to trust her, one she didn't even know she was extending. He'd listened to her stories as she'd opened up to him about her platoon, family, now she was ready for him to do the same.

So he told her about Jessica, their brief relationship. He told her about Mexico, watching the Towers fall on 9/11, and how he'd left love behind to re-enlist. The words seemed to spill out like water. Once the first drops flowed from his mouth, they couldn't be stopped. He realized she was the first person he'd actually _talked_ to about it. Kara had known about Jessica. She'd sensed his longing for normalcy, but Reese had never revealed to her how deeply he regretted not seeing how far the relationship could have gone if he'd stayed. Forty five minutes later, the bottle of scotch was almost empty, and he felt a mixture of unease and relief at the information he'd allowed Carter to be privy to.

"She's married now, two years. She seems happy."

He gave her the best smile he could muster, but she saw right through it.

"But you're not. You thought that serving your country was the right thing to do, and at the time maybe it was. Maybe Jessica's happy, maybe she's not. But you never will be if you don't stop going back to that place in your head….if you don't stop asking yourself _what if_. She's moved on; it's time you do too, John. Maybe it's time to fill that emptiness with something else."

Reese felt bare, he felt stripped and exposed, and for the first time in a long time, the thought of leaving the memory of Jessica in the past made him feel afraid. He'd clung to it for so long, his pain had become a part of him. If he let it go, if he put it aside, who would he be without it?

The reason for his visit was momentarily forgotten; he felt the sudden urge to flee from her intensely knowing gaze. He got up from the chair and headed for the door.

"Wait," she said.

His hand was frozen on the door knob, he didn't move, and he couldn't turn around to face her.

"Besides wanting to share the bottle of scotch, why'd you come here? I know having a drink with me wasn't the only reason."

"Snow is sending you to Ukraine," he answered quietly with a sigh. "Tomorrow."

"Ukraine? Are you coming with me?"

"No. I'm not. He wants you to go alone. There's a CEO who's about to get into bed with a leader of a terrorist cell there in two days. His company has been making weapons for the United States government for years, but the weapons he plans to make and distribute to these terrorists will not only be enough to start a war in the region, it could tip the balance of power in the wrong hands . Your job is to prevent the meeting from happening."

"How do I do that?"

He finally turned around and she stood in front of him.

"You have to kill him, en route to the meeting site. He might be in a hard car; whenever he travels there he has a motorcade with him."

"So I'll take out the motorcade. Who's he bringing with him?"

"His wife, possibly his ten year old daughter."

He watched her face as she took in the last bit of information. Her expression darkened a bit, and though in the end she resigned herself to the fact that innocent lives would be lost, he was glad to see the disappointment that passed over her features at the prospect of killing a child. When he'd given a similar scenario to Stanton, she didn't even blink.

"Will that be a problem?"

She squared her jaw and looked him straight in the eyes.

"No, it won't."

"I'm sorry Carter," he said.

"Sorry? Don't be sorry. I said yes, remember? I accepted Snow's offer and everything that came with it. This is something I wanted to do. I can't exactly turn back now, can I?"

"The first time is never easy," he said as an attempt to comfort her.

"No it isn't. But now I have my answer."

"To what?"

"To why you are the way you are. The first time we sat down together and Mark Snow offered me the job, I noticed there was something about you. It wasn't just that you'd lost your love. It was something else that I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was this job and what it did to your soul. You're cold now, and from what you told me tonight, you never used to be. Every time you kill a…wife or….a child…or someone who just happens to be there at the wrong place, wrong time….something in you just…..dies, doesn't it? You didn't want that for me. Did you?"

Carter's uncanny ability to read him, strongly unnerved Reese. Her big brown eyes were boring into his, looking for something that he'd been afraid to give for so long. But right now, even stronger than his fear was his desire to touch some of the goodness that she radiated. He wanted to hold it in his hands, touch it, feel it, and be consumed by it. He wanted to taste it.

Just once.

He closed the small gap between them but she didn't move, neither did her gaze waver. He cupped her cheek gently and bent his head to softly kiss her lips. The tiny movement of her mouth under his was a taste of heaven. Slowly he coaxed her mouth open and he slipped his tongue inside. She pulled at it, and the flavor of scotch exploded on his taste buds as he feasted on her lips.

Her arms went around his back, her tiny hands fisted the fabric of his shirt and he pulled her closer. She was tiny in his arms, so small and delicate wrapped in his embrace, and she felt so damn good against his body. She moaned as his hands went under the tank top she wore and brushed over her bare skin.

He pulled away briefly, watching her eyelashes fan her cheeks and she slowly opened her eyes. Her lids were hooded, her chest rose and fell and he could see she felt the need to lose herself in him just as much as he needed to lose himself in her. Tomorrow would be different, after tomorrow there was no going back. His conscience pricked at him and he thought about leaving right then and there. She mistook the look in his eye for regret, but he wouldn't take the kiss back even if he could. No, he was afraid for her, afraid for what was looming on the horizon. Knowing what he did, should he let this go further?

He swallowed hard, closing his eyes, trying to ignore the desire that was coursing through his veins so powerfully. When he felt he'd mustered enough strength to make his feet move towards her front door, he felt her fingers at the hem of his shirt. Her hands splayed across his chest and he couldn't stop his immediate reaction. He reached for her again, gathering her in his arms and lifted her up. Her legs went around his waist and he kissed her hard this time, not holding anything back.

Tomorrow would work itself out, he thought. Tonight they would burn together.

Holding her in his arms, he strode to her bedroom. Her fingertips on the back of his neck sent shivers down his spine and she ground into his erection, sending tremors through his cock. He lowered her onto the mattress, rid her of her tee and lapped at her nipples with his tongue. Each peak hardened under his mouth, standing at attention, rolled around as he played with them. He kissed her between her breasts, over her stomach and his hands impatiently pulled at the shorts she wore, then her panties.

Her stomach quivered under his mouth, and her fingers were in his hair. Lower he went and drew her knees up so he could rest between them. He looked at her. The trimmed landing strip, her labia that was slightly darker than the rest of her skin, and the flash of pink inside all called to him as if they knew his name. He slid the flat of his tongue over her opening, from top to bottom, and felt the warmth of her juices spill gently onto it. Over and over he licked at her, giving her kisses, touching her intimately. He inhaled her scent, feeling his cock grow harder as he took in the potent aroma. It was hypnotic, intoxicating and he couldn't wait to bury himself deep inside.

She trembled under his mouth, her hands gripped the sheets, and her body rocked from side to side. The lone finger that he slipped inside her while he circled her clit, finally took her over the edge. She came. Hard. And her moans filled the air. He kissed at the inside of her thighs, felt her trail her toes along his back, and then he slowly rose up.

He reached for his wallet in the back of his pants and took out a small pack of condoms. He placed them on the bed and took his shirt off, then his pants, and soon all of his clothing lay in a heap next to hers on the ground. She sat up on the edge of the bed reaching for him, pulling him closer. She took him in her hands, running her mouth over him, sucking at his cock. Her mouth was warm, so warm and he felt as if his knees would buckle underneath him at the sensation. He wanted to be inside her, he was impatient and couldn't wait anymore.

After putting a condom on, he lay between her legs, drawing her knees up. As he moved his head just over her opening, she started to mewl in anticipation. He hissed as he slid himself inside, feeling how slick, how snug she was. His eyes never left hers, not even when he rocked her from side to side, not even when he finally started to move.

His penetration was deep, she held tightly onto him. They moved together, push and pull, giving and taking. Her fingernails dug into his back, and he could feel her squeezing him, pulling him further and further in. He buried his face into her neck and pounded into her over and over until he brought them both to a bursting release.

Afterwards, they were both breathless, both gasping for air. He smoothed the hair from her face and kissed her mouth tenderly. She lowered her legs a bit and he lowered his head to kiss her chest and her shoulders. The hand that rested on his back, he captured in his own and brought it to his lips to kiss her palm. She smiled, and giggled as he kissed her lips again.

The last time he'd been this intimate, this affectionate, was when he'd been with Jessica. It seemed like ages ago now. Carter was nothing like her; in fact they couldn't be more different. He reluctantly let himself slip out of her, and she moaned, shivering when he did.

"I'll be right back," he said, and went to the bathroom. When he returned, she was underneath the covers, beckoning him to join her.

"Do me a favor, will you?"

"What's that?" he answered.

"Don't get all intense and filled with regret just yet. There's plenty of time to have second thoughts about this tomorrow. Agreed?"

Her request was simple, but knowing what she'd be up against made things all the more complicated. The whole situation was anything but simple. But he'd enjoyed being with her. He'd enjoyed her company, and he enjoyed the taste and feel of her. So he agreed to try.

"Your wish is my command, Joss."

"That's what I want to hear. Come here,"

Everything else was forgotten for the moment. All he cared about right now was the feel of her hands on him, and the sweet touch of her lips.

* * *

_**48 HOURS LATER**_

Carter sat in a corner of what she could only describe as a prison cell. She sat as far away from the entrance as she could possibly get. Her hair, her skin and her clothing were both drenched with perspiration. She was disoriented. She was dehydrated and she could barely breathe. Her throat felt like it would close up, it was difficult to swallow. High powered halogen lights were directed at her, as tall and as wide as the entire cell door. It was if the sun was right in front of her and the heat was unspeakably unbearable. They'd been on for what seemed an eternity.

She didn't know how she got there, or even who'd taken her. Everything in the last two days had been blurry. Her memory was clouded right now. The last thing she remembered was drinking scotch with John. She didn't know where he was, or even if he was still okay. Was he alive? Did they kill him? So far her captors hadn't even spoken to her, so she didn't know what they wanted. Or who they wanted. She tried to look around the room for any possible way to escape and found none that were viable. The cell was stripped bare, with nothing in it besides her as she cowered in the corner praying that the lights would be shut off soon.

Would someone come to save her?

Would she make it out of this alive?


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N In this chapter, there are a few references to footsteps. They're the feet of many different people and during different times in the story they signify different things. This chapter is sort of the introduction of a new path for Carter and just where she may be headed next in this AU. Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing you see here. **

* * *

**"No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path." - Gautama Buddha, _Sayings Of Buddha_**

**DAY 1**

The lights were turned off and Carter shivered, violently.

The heat that seemed to seep into her pores was suddenly gone. She put her palms to her face, and her skin was cold to the touch, clammy. There was a loud thumping in her ears, and through the dizzy muddle that had overtaken her, she realized it was her own head. She had a blinding headache. It was so painful; expelling breath through her nostrils seemed a difficult task. She willed herself to slow her breathing down; her heart was pounding as if it was trying to escape her chest.

She heard footsteps, heavy and rapid. Their sound was amplified, making the pounding in her head progressively worse the closer they got. She remained crouched in the corner as they stopped just in front of her cell.

A question broke the silence and she struggled to understand it. All the words, the sounds of her breathing, and a distant hum, melded into one. Yet he repeated it over and over, until finally she was able to make it out.

"Carter…" she whispered her own name - quietly - as if to clear the disorientation she felt, just enough to comprehend the question she was being asked.

"Who sent you to kill David Reznick?"

The last thing she heard before she passed out was the sound of steel scraping against steel as the door to her cell screeched opened.

* * *

**48 HOURS AGO**

Carter woke in the middle of the night feeling an unfamiliar weight on her bare midriff. Her sleep had been deep, and through heavy eyelids she stared at the source of the burden and saw a man's arm. It took her a few seconds to remember what had happened just a few hours earlier. A bottle of scotch, John's disarming smile, and his head and talented tongue between her legs. It was dark, she couldn't see her own face, but as her hand flew to her cheek she knew she was blushing. It had been a long time. Months of being out of the country on missions with her platoon, and training exercises after accepting Snow's offer had left little time for any form of physical interaction with another person. At least none that didn't involve hand to hand combat. She had needed this. They both had.

John was dead to the world now. His steady, even breathing told her that his sleep was just as deep as hers had been a while ago.

During training she'd wondered more and more about him; who he was and what made him tick. His instruction was hard, almost brutal at times, but she liked it. It matched the way he moved inside her tonight, with precision, skill and determination to successfully supply every nerve ending in her body with pleasure and ecstasy.

She shifted under his arm and he rolled over onto his back. She threw the covers off of them, and in the thin sliver of light that came from the bedroom window, she saw tiny goose bumps form on his bare arms. There was a slight chill in the air. Her curious eyes ran over the muscles of his chest, the indentation in his shoulders, and the scar a few inches below his right shoulder. She wondered where and how he got it. She stared at his naked manhood as it lay heavily against his thigh.

_Damned if it wasn't already semi hard,_ she thought as a smile crossed her lips.

She ran a finger over it and watched him twitch a bit, though he didn't wake up or move otherwise. It came alive under her tongue and in the damp space of her mouth she felt him pulse. As she licked at him, she felt the warmth of his pre-cum start to ooze and she heard a faint groan leave John's mouth.

He - along with his now fully hardened member - was awake. She felt his hand at the back of her neck, his fingers running through her hair and was satisfied with the strangled sounds he was making. After a while of her tongue twisted around his pulsating flesh, after he'd groaned and his fingers had bored into her skin, he was wet and dripping and she'd worked him into a heated frenzy. Her hands found a condom in the dark and she straddled him, torturing him while she unhurriedly fitted the latex over his cock.

His hands impatiently grabbed at her wrists to pull her closer and she lowered herself, achingly slowly over him, till she'd taken him all to the hilt.

"Ahhh…." The sound from his mouth was deep as she grounded onto him.

She could feel him pushing up to meet her movements, eager to immerse his hardness into the soft muscles inside her. She put a hand on his chest to still him as she took her time.

"Slow down, baby," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."

Yes, she thought, as she closed her eyes and threw her head backwards. They had both needed this.

* * *

**DAY 2**

The water that hit her in the face was cold and biting, and had done the job of startling her awake. There was a weird taste on her tongue and in her throat. They'd given her something, but she couldn't figure out just what.

There was a bright spot light pointed directly at her face, a beacon in the otherwise dark room. She was seated in a hard wooden chair and longed to rub at her eyes. Her hands were bound however, as were her legs to the seat that supported her. The confused daze she'd felt had faded somewhat and she made out a pair of feet standing in front of her. The light in her eyes prevented her from seeing the person's face, but she noticed there were leads on her chest connected to wires that led to the further edges of the room. Another person was seated behind a desk, quiet, waiting.

"Who sent you to kill David Reznick?"

The question from earlier was repeated. She didn't answer and lowered her head to her chest.

"Who sent you to kill David Reznick?"

She remained silent, wondering who could have known about the mission.

Her interrogator walked a few inches closer, and she mustered every measure of strength she had left, knowing what was to come.

The volts of electricity that shot through her body caused her to jerk and twist. She grit her teeth tightly together, trying to avoid biting down on her tongue. She felt her muscles contract and tighten while she clenched her fists.

Her interrogator waved his hand and she breathed heavily as it subsided.

"You had information on Reznick's whereabouts, his family, his meeting with Pietr Vladik. Where did you get it? Who are you working for? Tell me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she answered, looking up into the shadows.

The movement was quick, and his arm shot out towards her. The grip on her throat was tight. She couldn't move, she could barely breathe.

"Who are you working for?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The words came out as a strangled wheeze.

High voltage replaced the grip around her wind pipe as he signaled the man at the desk once more. On and on it went for how long she wasn't able to tell. She squirmed against the pain, against the ropes that held her still. There was nothing she could do but ride out wave after wave of the strong current as it wracked her body.

When shock therapy proved fruitless, two men came into the room and took turns delivering blows to her abdomen, her jaw, and anyplace else their fist happened to land. She coughed, she choked, and she grunted and moaned, wishing she could lose consciousness. At least that would be a short reprieve against the torture.

But the question of who sent her to kill David Reznick, remained unanswered.

* * *

**36 HOURS AGO**

Carter stood at the kitchen counter. The smell of coffee filled the air and she listened as footsteps moved over the carpeted flooring of the living room and came closer to her. She swallowed some of her coffee and set the mug down on the counter. She didn't turn around, nor did she speak as she felt John's hand reach around her middle and planted a quick kiss on her shoulder. The stubble on his face tickled her neck, and she squirmed, letting out a tiny laugh.

Eventually she did turn around, and the mood in the air changed just as quickly. She noticed the look on his face, the usual intensity had returned. Gone was the man who'd been so playful and passionate with her not only the night before, but during the wee hours of this very morning. It was definitely 'the morning after'.

"I hope I haven't disappointed you by not having a whole spread of breakfast ready. I can only offer you coffee," she said, tilting her head toward the coffee maker. "I normally eat closer to noon most of the time."

"Fair enough," he said quietly and poured himself a cup.

He was already dressed; she'd heard the shower in her bathroom a while ago. He was ready to start the day. She too, had already showered and changed. Her hair was caught up in a neat bun and she was bright eyed.

"What's on the agenda today?" she asked him.

"You have a briefing with Snow. He'll go over the details of the mission...and…I forgot to give you this…"

His eyes immediately darkened as he fished a thumb drive out of his back pocket and pressed it into her hand.

"…your contacts in the area, weapons you'll need, money. It's all there."

"John, there's no regrets about last night. There's no reason things have to be awkward. We're both adults. We can handle this little….development can't we?"

Despite his attempts to maintain his icy expression, she caught the hint of a smile before he released it into his coffee mug and took a drink.

"A development? That's what we're calling this?"

Carter shrugged as she took the thumb drive from him and spun it between her fingers.

"Well…whatever this is, whatever it turns out to be, let's just trust each other enough to not let it interfere with our work. Okay? Partner?"

She realized it was the first time she'd said the word out loud. He didn't miss it either, but it was true. They _were_ partners, and they both needed to trust each other if any of this was going to work.

"I think I like the sound of that," he said before kissing the side of her mouth. "Partner."

"Good. Now let's take a look at what's on this drive."

Snow's instructions were clear, precise. What he'd asked for was quite doable. Ordinarily it was a mission that could've been carried out by less than half of her platoon if it had been one of their directives. She knew she could do this.

She didn't question why Snow wanted her to go alone, but later he explained anyway. He needed to see how she performed on her own. She'd been the leader of a team, and now she'd been paired with Reese. From time to time there were things she'd be required to do solo.

She didn't mind the test. She'd aced every previous one since she got to Williamsburg. Truthfully, she wanted more of a challenge, and a break from the routine of tests and training she'd had to undergo. This was a chance for her to prove herself yet again.

She familiarized herself with David Reznick and those he travelled with in the small window of time she had before her departure. Her contact was Nicholas Newman, an agent that ran a safe house in Ukraine and had been stationed there for a while. He was only charged with smuggling her in, providing weaponry, and getting her as close to Reznick as possible. She was responsible for getting herself out.

"You look nervous," Carter said as she turned to Reese. "You shouldn't be. I've done this a thousand times."

The breeze from the blades of the Sikorsky muted her words to him. He reached out to grasp her forearm and she held onto his as he looked down at her.

"Good luck, Carter."

"Thanks."

She boarded the helicopter under the cover of night and she was on her way.

Her mission, although well thought out and well planned, was short lived. No sooner had she arrived at the Ukraine Poland border, she'd been ambushed. Newman was nowhere to be found and she'd been shot in the neck with a tranquilizer.

Someone had expected her.

* * *

**DAY 3**

Reese felt restless and uneasy. He'd just disassembled his pistol with intentions of cleaning it, with intentions of doing anything to pass the time. The bore brush was in his left hand, and had been for the last fifteen minutes, but his mind was elsewhere. As much as he pretended not to be worried, he was just the opposite.

He put the brush down and picked up one of the bullets from the table top to idly twirl it between his fingers. The door to the room opened and Mark Snow walked in.

"Any word yet from Carter?" he asked.

"No."

Snow nodded his head, noting Reese's expression. "Don't look so worried, John. We handpicked her remember? She can handle this."

* * *

**DAY 4**

Her arms were sore. She'd been dangling from the ceiling with rope tied around her wrists for quite a while now. They'd stripped her down to her underwear and she had just endured being hosed with water by two nameless, faceless people. In between, she'd been hit repeatedly about the body with the knotted ends of thick nautical rope. The edges were coarse and hard, and had done their share of damage to her skin. Her body had suffered a lot. She was trying her best to keep her mind and her emotions intact.

She thought about crying, thought about screaming, but what good would it do? It wouldn't ease the pain, it wouldn't get her out of here, and she didn't want to give them - whoever they were - the satisfaction those responses would bring. She would grunt, she would steel her jaw and endure it, but she'd never let them think they'd broken her.

She felt like she was floating, but really she was being lowered to the ground. Her legs hit the ground, and then soon she was on her knees. The ropes were cut, and when her arms fell to her sides they felt like jelly. She fell over and onto her side. Her body felt like paper that had been scraped too hard with an eraser. She felt raw and used up. The ground beneath her was cold. Her eyes travelled to the open door to her far left. From what little she could see, there was just one more door that led to the exit. Something shiny was on the ground. As the door closed behind her captors, she crawled toward it. It was a razor. They'd been sloppy enough to leave it behind. Finding it had brought the first smile to her lips since she'd been brought here. She picked it up off the ground and held it close to her chest.

Maybe she could make a run for it.

* * *

"It's been four days."

"I'm aware of that."

"We've used the rope, halogen lights, the hose….shock therapy…."

"Maybe you're not trying hard enough."

"The shock therapy almost sent her into cardiac arrest. She won't talk. I don't think anything will get her to break at this point. It's time to end the interrogation."

"I agree. Once you tell her we have her partner, she'll sing like the pretty little bird she is."

* * *

With her ear to the ground, Carter could hear the sound of footsteps approaching. She also heard footsteps heading in the opposite direction. She heard a car, the sound of tires on asphalt and soon a creak as the door to the room opened.

"We have your partner."

She pretended not to hear, and didn't respond. She knew it had to be a lie. John wasn't here; he was back in Williamsburg where she left him. They had to be talking about Newman, and he didn't matter to her.

"I don't have a partner; I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered in a broken voice.

She pretended to cry then, raising her hands to her head. "Please….please let me go."

"You can go, and so can John, as soon as you tell me who sent you to kill David Reznick."

How would they know about John? How would they know who she was?

"I don't know any John, I don't know David Reznick….I don't know who you're talking about."

She crawled closer and closer till she was at his feet. She held onto his foot, keeping up the charade of uncontrollable tears, and as he bent down to grab hold of her, she quickly reached up to drag the razor across the side of his face. The cut was deep, and blood flowed freely from the wound. She rose to her feet, twisting his arm around his back when he tried to reach for the pistol at his side.

She grabbed it and held it to his temple.

"Okay. Now you're gonna help me get out of here." She led him toward the door, keeping the barrel to his head. "How many others are here with you?" She asked.

He didn't have to answer as two men met them both in the hallway. Without thinking, Carter fired at them both, hitting one in the chest, and the other in the neck.

"Keep moving!" she yelled at him, and they encountered another man just before the exit.

She was so close, she thought. She was almost there. Her heartbeat was pumping fast. Her breath was heavy. Her body was screaming to rest, but she knew if she stopped now, if she gave in to the fatigue and the pain that was threatening to pull her down, she'd never get another chance to escape.

"Let me explain!" he screamed, and raised his arms in the air. "Carter let me explain!"

"No explanation needed," she answered, and fired at him.

Her human shield had lost a lot of blood, so much he was shaking like a leaf in her arms. She pushed him out the door, looking around frantically for a vehicle, anything to get her out of the area, but she was surrounded.

She couldn't get out, and as her interrogator slid to the ground she put a bullet in his back. She heard screaming, orders for her to drop her gun, but she didn't intend to let them take her again. She raised her hands, looking at the armed men as they advanced towards her, and prepared to put a bullet through her throat.

"Do not kill her! Do not kill her! Do you hear me? Do not kill her!"

The voice she heard was familiar, and she looked around. The movement of her head caused the dizziness to return. She felt a blow to the back of her shoulder blade and she dropped to her knees as a heavy warmth coursed rapidly through her veins.

She rolled onto her back, arms flailing, her heart rate slowing down significantly. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

She looked up as someone came to stand over her.

"Good work, Carter." The unmistakable smile, the expression of a man you weren't sure if you should trust or kill.

She uttered one word. "Snow?"


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Carter finally wakes, and a few interesting conversations take place in this chapter. Thank you to Fanu for your beta help. Hope I make you 'comma' proud. If not, I tried, LOL. Hope you enjoy this offering.

**Disclaimer ~ I don't own Person of Interest or its characters.

* * *

When Carter finally woke up, it was a gradual return to consciousness. It was nothing like the startled fit she had when the water had been thrown in her face, but rather it was an ease from a restful sleep. The entire room was white; the towels, the walls, even the furniture and bed linens. She was clad in a white hospital gown, but she knew this was no regular hospital. It was a private facility, government owned, but she had no idea just where _it_ was.

It was the second time since she'd left Williamsburg that she'd been taken somewhere and hadn't known how she'd gotten there. Not being in charge didn't sit well with her; being lied to and taken advantage of made her even angrier. Instead of sending her on a real mission and giving her a chance to really show him her capabilities, Snow had had her kidnapped and tortured for reasons she didn't have the first clue about. She couldn't describe how deeply angry she was, or how badly she wanted to get back at him.

She got out of bed slowly and headed to the bathroom. In the dim light of the room she saw that a small assortment of toiletries was laid out for her; soap, toothpaste, a towel and a toothbrush. She took advantage of them and washed up at the sink. The warm water drained from her face to her torso, and she finally switched the light on. She gasped at her reflection as her eyes took in the bruises on her face and body.

"My God…"

She spun round looking at her torso, her back, and her legs. Her hands ran over the ridges on her skin left behind by the lashes of the rope when they hit her body. She closed her eyes as memories of that moment came back vividly. It made no sense that she'd survived, and yet she had. Something inside her had pushed her to carry on when someone else would have given up. She used the washcloth to wipe away the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes, and brushed her hair back from her face. Wherever she was now, they'd given her some really good painkillers. Besides being sore in a few places, she was mostly pain free. Even so, she didn't have any gratitude toward whomever it was that was being so benevolent to her at the moment, especially if they had anything to do with Mark Snow.

Snow. They needed to talk about this. And she didn't feel in the mood to talk, not really. As she exited the bathroom, she opened the cabinet by the bed. The small back pack with a change of clothes that she'd had in Williamsburg on the helicopter was there. She ignored the complaint of her sore muscles as she quickly put them on, and she slipped her feet into her boots. Her watch was on the table beside her bed, and she fastened it securely to her wrist. She heard movement outside her room and the door slowly opened. She reached for the small knife that was sheathed in a compartment near the zipper of her right boot. It was no longer than her index finger from hilt to tip, but the blade was sharp and dangerous nonetheless.

Her doctor entered the room, but she had no interest in being examined. It was time to check out.

* * *

"Do you know that she didn't even try to escape until Peck mentioned _you_?"

Reese idly traced his finger across the edge of the desk and Snow went on and on giving him a glowing recollection of how Carter had been tortured. The tone in which he spoke was almost one of a proud father who was happy about his child's good grades.

"I think she has a soft spot for you. Reminds me of you and Kara."

"She's nothing like Kara," Reese replied.

"No, she's not. But she's everything like you."

Reese looked up as Snow walked over to him. He was disgusted by the look on his face. He was positively gleeful; not caring at all that they'd almost killed her.

"Come to think of it, she nearly beat your time. It's almost like you two were in sync, even in the way you two tried to get out. Except you killed a few more people on your way out when you were leaving."

"This is nothing more than a game to you, isn't it? Moving people around like chess pieces on a board."

"Everybody had to go through it. You, me, Kara, Wilson, we all did. So she's not exempt."

Snow was completely unapologetic, and suddenly Reese felt sick to his stomach for being part of what they had just put her through. He hadn't been able to stop Snow, but he should have given her a heads up, a warning of some type, anything. But he'd stood mute and hadn't uttered a word. Now he feared she would never trust him again.

She was different than Kara. They hadn't started out together, but he was the first partner in the Agency Carter would have. The professional tone of their relationship would be forever marred by this experience, and the personal development that had so sweetly begun the night before she was taken would most likely end up being just as fractured. He lamented the latter most of all.

"She'll be a better agent, a very dangerous weapon against the enemies of our country."

"You know," Reese said, as he got up from his chair, "I live for the day when you stop thinking about us as weapons."

"Where are you going?"

"To see Carter."

Reese's hands were on the door knob, but it opened suddenly from the other side. Another agent came in and whispered in Snow's ear before leaving.

"What is it?" asked Reese.

"Carter's left the safe house."

* * *

Carter sat outside Snow's building, waiting for him to come home. It was late, almost 2:30 in the morning, but she wasn't the least bit tired. She'd been there for the last twenty minutes, but she was prepared to wait all night if she had to. She looked at the cheap bottle of whiskey in the brown bag on the seat next to her. She considered taking a drink to calm her nerves, but thought better of it. She needed to be alert and ready when Snow appeared.

Earlier, the combination of a knife at his throat and Carter's promise to use it convinced her doctor to help her in any way she needed. Once outside her room she realized it wasn't a hospital at all; it was a safe house. He helped her gain access to the small armory there, and she procured a handgun and some ammunition. They took his car and drove to a local bank and she made him withdraw funds from his account. After knocking him out and ditching both him and the vehicle, Carter took possession of another one. She drove to Krosno, a Polish city not more than fifty three miles east of Ukraine. She hadn't spoken to her in weeks, but she had a contact there she believed she could trust. She just hoped that Amelia was still in town.

She'd expected to be taken back to the U.S., but apparently they'd all remained here. She wondered why. What else did Snow have planned on his agenda? She questioned the doctor, but he didn't know much. He was able to provide her with Snow's address but not much else about his reasons for wanting to stay here in Poland.

Her gloved hands were clenched tightly on the steering wheel as she saw him come into view. He got out of his car, and in the chill of the night he raised the collar of his coat around his ears. He walked into his building, keys in hand and when he got to his floor she saw the lights come on by his window. She waited a few minutes, allowing him to get comfortable and ready for bed. She wanted to catch him off guard, unsuspecting. By now he'd know she'd disappeared, and he'd be wondering where she was. Hopefully he believed that she was long gone, on her way back to the US instead of right outside his building.

Another ten minutes passed, and she got out of the car. She quietly made her way up the stairs and slipped into his apartment, surprised by how easily it was to pick his locks. She could hear the shower running, steam came from the opened bathroom door, and she got her gun out, holding it in front of her. She pushed the door open, but his hand shot out hitting her on the arm in an attempt to disarm her. He'd known someone was in the house.

He was just about to get into the shower, the fact confirmed by his nudity. It was a disadvantage however, and as he reached out to strike her in the face, she kneed him between the legs. He stumbled backwards as she hit him in the face, the blow hitting his upper lip and nose. He lunged forward pushing her against the vanity. She grunted at the pain but the agony did nothing more than fuel her anger and she elbowed him in the back. He fell to the ground and she connected the toe of her boot to this side of his rib twice. He cried out in pain, but she ignored it. She pinned him underneath her, and pressed her weight on his arms and chest so he could hardly breathe. He was immobilized now, struggling to get free and she struck him in the face twice. She broke the skin on his cheek and something inside her was happy to see the blood slowly ooze from it.

"What do you want?" he asked almost defiantly.

With a Balaclava over her head, only her eyes were visible; he had no idea who his attacker was. She pressed the barrel of her gun to his temple, but instead of squinting he looked her squarely in the eyes, almost as if he'd expected to die like this one day. In fact, he looked almost as if he welcomed it.

He'd been responsible for putting her through four days of pure hell. Her life had hung in the balance because of him, and he deserved to die. Her hand started to shake, and all she could feel was rage for everything he'd subjected her to. Instead of shooting him, she punched him again, and took joy in his pain.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now?" she asked him.

His eyes widened as he recognized her voice. "Carter?"

She was further incensed when a chuckled started to rumble in his throat. She cocked her gun and the laughter died on his lips.

"Give me one good reason, Snow!"

"You're angry; I understand. And I have to give you props for coming here. Can't say I didn't expect it. You've done every single thing I've expected since the beginning."

"You don't know anything about me," Carter said through clenched teeth.

"Except I do. I know every detail, every flaw. I know how good you are, how good you've been, and I know exactly how good you can be. It's why I picked you."

"You sent me to hell!"

"And I make no apologies for it!" he shouted back. "I train only the best! I did what needed to be done to see if you had what it took. And you do. You passed with flying colours. I had to make sure that if and when the time came, you'd have the strength to survive and escape. It was a thing of beauty to watch you, day after day. You're just like Reese. You're driven, and you're strong. You two would be perfect together."

"You talk about it as if this is some game. Like we're pieces on a board for you to move around at your own will, but we're not. We're _people_."

"I don't _need_ people. I need an agent who can get the job done no matter what they have to do, or who they have to kill. You showed me that you are who I'm looking for, whether you want to admit it or not. It's always been in you, deep down all the way in there. I just forced you to pull it out."

"I'm nothing like you."

"No, you're not. You're better. And I still want you on my team. I have an assignment coming up. An important one. And I need you and Reese to work together to carry it out."

"You expect me to work for you after this?"

"Where else are you gonna go? You can't go back to your platoon. You can't go back to your old life. This isn't the army. This isn't the SEALS. I told you this _from the beginning_. This is nothing like anything you've ever done. Jocelyn Carter is _dead_. It's time to decide who you're going to be now."

She stared down at him and realized that he was right. She'd come here to kill him tonight. Somehow she'd stopped herself, but something inside her had demanded vengeance in a way she'd never thought about or even desired. Something had changed, and she wasn't quite sure she was comfortable with it.

"You know I'm right," he said, looking at her.

She got off him and rose to her feet. He stood up, put the back of his hand to his cheek and looked at the small amount of blood that coated it.

"You said you wanted to serve your country. Here's your chance. Take a few days off to think about it. You'll get a new name, new identity, a new life. It's up to you."

He took a deep breath and said nothing more. He simply stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain across.

* * *

When Carter had first been brought back from the interrogation to the safe house, Reese looked in on her. She'd been unconscious for about two days. They'd been careful to keep her heavily sedated to give her time to recuperate from dehydration, low blood pressure and the onset of fatigue. She'd endured a lot physically, and Reese was sure emotionally she had to be reeling from what'd happened to her. He sat with her on the first night after the doctor had seen her for the evening and was comforted only in the fact that at least she was finally resting.

Her skin was marred by bruises; there were minor cuts and scrapes on her thighs and legs. He cursed Snow and himself for the small part he'd had in it. He wanted to talk to her, but he knew he was one of the last people in the world she'd want to see when she regained consciousness. When Snow had said she left the safe house, he immediately tracked her to an apartment in Krosno, using the signal from a small bug he'd planted in her watch. He'd taken it from her room the night she arrived and replaced it without anyone being the wiser. He needed to keep tabs on her in case she disappeared again.

He let himself in after she'd gone and waited for her to return. He sat quietly on the couch in the dark. The place smelled as if it'd been closed up for a while and he wondered who she'd acquired it from. It was expensively furnished and in an affluent area of the city. How did she get access to a place like this so quickly? There was a clock on the wall, and it ticked away the seconds quite loudly. Its sound was the only thing that disrupted the heavy silence.

Finally he heard footsteps outside and the door opened. Carter walked in, but she didn't turn the light on right away. When the chandelier overhead was switched on and the light finally cast illumination in the room, she turned around with her gun pointed in his direction. She regarded him coolly, lowering the gun and put it down on the table by the door.

As soon as she'd opened the door, Carter saw the figure of a man on the couch out of the corner of her eye. She pretended not to notice and put the bottle of whiskey on the table by the door. When she flipped the switch she turned to face the intruder with her gun drawn. She took a deep breath when she realized who it was. She had no idea how John knew where to find her, and frankly she didn't care.

She rested the gun down and picked up the bottle of whiskey. She finally removed the ski mask and opened the bottle, putting it to her head. Thoughts of their night together ran through her head; his hands on her, his mouth on her. Then she remembered the lashes of the rope, the electricity that ran through her body, and she wanted to know what he wanted from her.

Reese noted the ski mask before she pulled it over her face and guessed she'd just had a visit with Mark Snow. He wondered if she'd left him dead or alive. At the moment however, he really didn't care.

"I won't even ask how you found me," she said, smoothing her hair down and kicking off her boots. "What do you want?" Her voice was cold, indifferent.

"I wanted to see if you were ok. To see…"

"To see if I was dead or alive? Or barely breathing?" She raised her arms and turned around as she mockingly sought to allay his fears.

"I wanted to see if you'd made it. Some people break after a few hours…I was worried."

"Well, I didn't. Did you?"

"No."

"Humph. No wonder Snow thinks we're perfectly suited."

She put the bottle to her mouth again, taking one more drink before sitting in an armchair opposite him. She sat close to the edge, with her forearms rested on her thighs and put her hands to her face.

"Aside from a few bruises, aches and soreness, I'll live."

She said it almost as a taunt, as if she felt he wanted or expected otherwise. When she looked up at him her eyes had glossed over and he knew what was coming.

"You knew about Snow. You knew there was no David Reznick. You knew this whole thing was a lie."

"Yes."

"So you fed me a sad story about some woman named Jessica and how you left her behind. How she got married and your poor tortured soul just misses her and what you two could have had."

"That wasn't a lie…."

"You stood at my door with a bottle of scotch in your hand pretending that I could trust you."

"You can, Carter. It's not what you think."

"Then what was it?"

He wanted to run from the accusation in her eyes. Not only was she angry at him, she was also hurt. He wanted to tell her how good it had felt to be with her, to finally talk to her like he hadn't talked to anyone before. He wanted to tell her that he never wanted her to be hurt, but the words stayed trapped in his mouth, and he couldn't speak.

Carter looked at him, searching his eyes to see if he was the same man who'd opened up to her before. Could she still trust him? Should she believe the genuine concern that she saw on his face, heard in his voice? Could she trust herself around him? Was he simply manipulating her again?

"And having sex with me…was that your attempt to soften the blow? Was that your way of smoothing things over after I found out the truth?"

"No, it wasn't. It was more than that."

"I had a _life_. I had a _team_. I had people that I could trust. Nelson might have opposed my leadership in the beginning, but at least when I faced opposition I knew where I stood. I knew because he was upfront with how he felt. But you and Snow…and this Agency…I don't know the difference between my enemy and my friend. He still wants me to stay. He says there's a new assignment for the both of us. How can I work with you, when I _know_ I can't trust you to have my back?"

"If I could take it back, I would. If I had the power to prevent it, I would. I had no choice, Joss. I'm sorry."

She looked away from him, staring past his shoulders. He could see that she was considering his words, contemplating whether or not she could still trust him. The air was heavy, thick with all that she still wanted to say. He would have preferred that she was angry. He could have accepted her rage much better than her silent skepticism about him and what had happened between them.

Carter got up from her chair, suddenly afraid to be near him. She was disgusted with herself; because as angry as she was with him for his part in what she'd been through, a part of her wanted the comfort of his words and the promise in his eyes to make it up to her. How could she be torn after what they did to her? How could she possibly still be drawn to him? Why should she still want him?

"Look, it's been a long night. I need to rest….I think you should leave."

She stood at the door, and she wouldn't look at him. Reese got up and walked toward her, but instead of leaving as she asked, he stood before her. She wouldn't meet his gaze, refused to look at him.

_Why won't he leave?_ she thought.

She was mortified when he raised his hand and touched the side of her face. She closed her eyes as his hand moved to the back of her neck, and he pressed his cheek to her forehead.

"Joss..."

As good as it felt to be near him, the mention of her name on his lips reminded her of how intimate they were before he'd sent her off to be kidnapped. She put both hands between them and pushed him away.

"No," she said shaking her head. "Please go."

To her horror, he slipped his arm around her waist in an attempt to hold her. He raised her chin up and kissed her softly. Mindful of her stitches, the touch of his lips was light and so sweet. He whispered her name again and she pushed at his chest.

Their lips parted briefly, but he pressed his lips to hers once more, and his fingers brushed along the side of her face tenderly. For a brief moment her desire for him overcame her anger and she kissed him back allowing his tongue to flicker against hers. She came to her senses and this time when she pushed him away, her hand landed soundly against his cheek.

"No!" she said, putting a hand to her mouth.

"Joss, please...let me help you."

"Get out, John," she said quietly, running her hands over the top of her head. "Get out!" she screamed when he refused to move.

When the door closed after him, she picked up the bottle of whiskey and walked down the long hallway to the back bedroom. As she sat on the bed she was thankful that she was finally feeling the effects of the whiskey. Pretty soon she would be asleep, something that she much preferred to the incessant questions and thoughts that plagued her mind right now.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N

More introspection awaits for both Carter and Reese in this chapter, and we meet a new OC. Hope you enjoy.

***Disclaimer - I own nothing you see here.

* * *

Carter pulled at the lapel of the crème coloured coat she wore and fastened the belt at her waist. Underneath it was a pale gray sleeveless cowl-neck top, and she'd decided on a pair of fitted dark pants that tapered into her new boots. Which were quite fashionable, if she did say so herself. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this girly. The opportunities to be this dressed up in her profession were few and far between, but this afternoon she had a good reason. She was meeting Amelia for lunch at a restaurant just a short drive away from the clothing store she'd stopped in. The place was high end and attracted the wealthy, so Carter's jeans and t-shirt wouldn't have been appropriate attire.

Her yield from the doctor's bank account was a little over $800 US dollars, more than enough to purchase a new outfit before she went to meet her friend. She and Amelia Belka were literally worlds apart, and their backgrounds differed greatly. Fate brought them together when Carter and some of her men had stumbled upon Amelia during a rescue mission. Her captors were enemies of her husband, an affluent Senator, and sought to make him pay for new legislature he'd supported. She'd gained Amelia's lifelong gratitude, and in the process she also made a friend.

They'd kept in touch over the years, and Carter never thought she'd ever have to call in any favours until the night before, when she found herself in a city she'd never been in and had nowhere else to turn. Carter didn't like the idea of driving to the heavily guarded estate that Amelia shared with her husband, and according to her friend, they were hosting a dinner party that evening. Amelia had arranged to have somebody deliver the keys to an apartment she owned in Krosno, and promised they would meet the next day.

When Carter got to the restaurant she checked herself out in the mirror of her compact and dabbed a little bit more powder over the bruise on her left cheek. The makeup had done a good deal to conceal the marks on her face, but they weren't entirely invisible. She groaned inwardly, thinking about the questions she'd have to dodge over lunch.

The maitre'd met her at the entrance of the restaurant and escorted her to Amelia's table. Amelia stood tall in high-heeled shoes, she was dressed impeccably, and her long dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders. The smile she greeted Carter with was accompanied by a fierce embrace. But it quickly died on her lips when her very observant self didn't miss the bruises no matter how hard Carter had tried to cover them up.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I can't talk about it," Carter replied regretfully.

She appreciated the concerned look on Amelia's face, but didn't elaborate any more. Instead, she focused her eyes on a drink menu. The waitress took their orders and Amelia requested a bottle of champagne, a choice that made Carter balk. It was just past 1pm, a bit early for bubbly.

"That means it's about work. I'd have been furious if it had been because of some man."

"Please." Carter rolled her eyes. "You know me better than that."

"I do. And I remember you being a much better soldier. How'd you let this happen?"

"I said I can't talk about it. Besides I need to thank you for helping me out on such short notice. I really appreciate it."

Amelia waved a hand in dismissal and shook her head.

"It's the least I could do. I owe you my life. I'm so happy to see you. What _are_ you doing here in Krosno?"

Carter remained tight lipped, shaking her head in answer. There wasn't much she could tell her friend, if anything about why she was here.

"Something else you can't tell me? I don't remember you being this secretive even though you were in the SEALS."

The waitress came back with their bottle, and though Amelia was temporarily distracted while she sampled a glass, she would not drop the subject.

"You _are_ still in the SEALS, aren't you?"

"Amelia, what part of _'I can't talk about it'_ are you not getting?"

"Just answer me, yes or no?"

"The short answer is no, but I am not able to tell you anything else. I'm sorry."

Carter hated to be less than forthcoming and so rigid, especially when Amelia had given her a place to stay on such short notice. She realized now more than ever, that she would never be in a position to talk about her job with anyone anymore. Besides, how could she begin to put into words what had happened to her for the last four and a half days? Nobody would believe it, or begin to understand it even if they did.

"A secret job that has you all black and blue in the face is not one that I think that I like. Maybe you should quit."

Carter huffed out a laugh.

"I'm serious. Quit, and stay here with me. I'll find you a nice, handsome, young lover to worship you while you drink champagne all day."

Both of them laughed, but Carter knew that that type of lifestyle would never suit her.

"If only it were that easy. But…there's no way for me to turn back now, even if I wanted to. And….there _is_ somebody that I…" She stopped mid sentence, but decided not to finish.

"No, you don't get off that easily," said Amelia, reaching for her hand across the table and held onto it. "I've never seen that look in your eyes before. Tell me about him."

There wasn't much Carter could say about 'him'. 'He' was as mysterious as they came. Still she managed to lay aside her anger and talk to Amelia about the kind look in his eyes, the one he concealed so well behind brooding looks and only came out in very rare moments. When it did rear its head, it was accompanied by his smile. The one she spent all night thinking about, despite the strength of both the whiskey and her anger, which - though it was still hot - was not burning quite as brightly as it had the night before.

They spent most of the afternoon together, ate lunch and spent some time walking around in some of the expensive boutiques that Amelia regularly patronized. Despite Carter's protests, she insisted on buying a dress for her that she'd never in a million years be able to afford, and the shoes and jewelry to go along with it. She had no idea where she'd ever wear it, but she couldn't deny that the soft Kelly green fabric looked amazing against her skin. As she gazed at herself in the mirror, she was stunned by her own reflection. By the time Carter got back to the apartment building, her arms were laden with an assortment of newly bought clothes and shoes.

It was almost seven o'clock and the sun was starting to set. The bags were the first things she unburdened herself from as soon as she got inside. She let them slip from her fingers, and they landed with a soft thud on the ground. She rolled her eyes and let out a sharp breath in disbelief as she saw the shadow of an all too familiar figure on the couch out of the corner of her eye. She flicked the light switch on, and her brown eyes stared at two blue ones across the room.

"Is this going to be a regular thing now? I come home and find you sitting in the dark waiting for me?"

"I wanted to check on you."

"Well, we established last night that I was fine."

"Obviously you are," he said, as his eyes travelled over her from head to toe, taking in her outfit, makeup and her overall appearance. "Did you have a date?"

Carter wasn't ignorant to the possibility that he could have followed her today. He could have put a tracker on her somewhere, or he could have shadowed her every move personally. Either scenario was feasible, but right now he wanted to hear from her own mouth where she'd been, or who she'd been with.

"I spent some time with a friend."

His eyebrows rose at the reveal, but she wouldn't go any further. Much like their conversation about Wilson's demise, it was his time not to push her to go on. Instead, he got up from the couch. The move was successful in showing just how much presence he commanded. By merely standing up, he was trying to establish dominance in the room.

He wasn't outfitted in his suit tonight; instead he wore dark jeans and a dark polo shirt. Both of them accentuated his long, lean, legs and strong arms, the ones she'd seen in the SEAL practice gym and in bed back in Williamsburg. If she were a lesser woman, she'd be intimidated - or turned on - even though he had yet to speak another word. But she was not a lesser woman.

"Do you have any idea how angry I am at you?"

"I think I can imagine, yes."

"Do you have any idea how angry I am at myself? I trusted you. I usually have really good instincts, and I thought I could trust you. I was prepared to die without giving up anything about Reznick. Nothing on where I came from, or who I worked for. I'd already resigned myself to die….but then they mentioned you…and even though I knew there was no way they had both of us in custody, I figured I had to get out to at least find out if it was true."

He looked away from her gaze, past her shoulders. It was as if he was contemplating what to say. When he finally allowed himself to look into her eyes again, it was the same look he had the night he told her about Jessica. He looked vulnerable and…terrified.

"I should have warned you. I should have said something Joss, but I couldn't. After I told you about Jessica, it was difficult for me to be in the same room with you. I wanted to leave. I was….afraid."

"Of what?" she asked, confused.

"Of who I am around you. I have so many names, been so many different people, most days I don't know who I am anymore. But that night, I was…._me_ again. Someone I hadn't been for many years. I understand if you don't want to work with me anymore, I do. I do understand."

He started to move closer, closing the gap between them, something she wished he wouldn't do. The expression of his regret coupled with his thinly veiled admission of how attached he'd become to her so quickly shook her.

"But if you do stay, just know that I do have your back. You _can_ trust me…and…I _am_ your partner."

She knew he wasn't lying. He didn't have to at this point. Which made it all the more harder to stay angry with him, and that made her angry at herself. Both of them had been placed in an impossible situation by Snow. If things had been reversed, would she have done the same thing he had? She wasn't sure, but she knew that now there were a great deal more things she'd need to factor into her decision to stay.

"And besides," She looked up at him as a mischievous smile crept across his lips. "I don't want you to do to me what you did to Snow."

She couldn't help but laugh, and she let out a full-bodied one despite her sore muscles groaning against the movement. He shrugged and laughed along with her, and the mirth travelled all the way up to his eyes. They practically lit up. There was his smile again, the one she could never resist.

"How's he doing?" she asked, not that she really cared.

"Sporting a few bruises here and there, but unlike you, he can't cover it up with makeup. He avoided quite a bit of curious questions today."

"Good," she said, enjoying the fact that she'd caused him at least some measure of discomfort and embarrassment. She continued to smile. "Well you can relax. Most of my initial aggression was worked out on Snow, so you should be safe. For now, at least."

"Good," he said, and looked at the shopping bags on the ground at her feet. "Been shopping I see."

"Well my trip here wasn't supposed to last this long, remember? I had to grab a few essentials."

"You come into some money we don't know about?" His eyes travelled around the room, indicating the lavish apartment that cost a couple hundred thousand dollars to buy. The labels on the bags were expensive.

"Took some money from the doctor at the safe house on my way out. And luckily, I had a friend in town who owned a vacant apartment."

"How'd you become friends with Amelia Belka?"

"So you were following me."

He gave her a sheepish look, his eyes admitting to him keeping tabs on her, but he didn't respond.

"I saved her life a few years ago. She owed me a favour, so she let me stay here."

"Her husband's a pretty powerful man. He's the right kind of person to have in your debt."

"So I've heard. I've never met him personally."

"Hmm…"

His hands were twitching at his sides, his fingers moved against his denim covered leg. He'd done a little to inject some humor in their conversation, but something else in the air was potent. She didn't know how much longer he could keep his hands to himself, and she wasn't sure she could control her response to him. She busied herself with unzipping her boots and kicked them off. She bent to pick them up along with the bags and meant to take them in the bedroom, telling him she'd be right back. She didn't count on him following.

The bedroom was large, with a high ceiling, but he seemed to take up a lot of the space. Or was it that she was just so aware of him? She prided herself on always being able to keep a clear head, but for some reason whenever she was near this man, it seemed to be impossible. He advanced toward her, standing entirely too close for her comfort and she pulled the bags close to her chest to put any possible space between them.

"John." When she called his name he stood still and looked down at her. "Look, I appreciate you being honest with me about everything. While I'm open to forgiving you for what happened, I'm not ready to just…whatever else it is that you want right now…it's not happening tonight."

Though he'd followed her to the bedroom, having sex with her was not on his mind at that moment, John thought. He simply wanted to be near her. He was glad at least that she showed there was a possibility that he could regain her trust. That meant more to him right now than anything else. He figured that enough had been said for one night, anything else could possibly shatter the new foundation that had just been established, so he decided to leave.

He nodded his head and saw relief flood her eyes. On impulse, he touched her cheek lightly and planted a quick kiss to her forehead. With her hands full and not expecting the gesture, she stood immobilized and did nothing more than close her eyes. He looked at her mouth, lightly covered in pale lip gloss and wanted nothing more than to taste their fullness. He took a step backward before he gave into temptation, and dropped his hand to his side. She needed more time and he would give it.

"Goodnight, Joss," he said, and left without another word.

The next few days seemed to go by quickly. Soon it was the end of the week and he was more than a little anxious when Snow summoned him to the safe house one afternoon. Carter was there and the tension between her and Snow was thick. She told him that she'd continue to work together with him and with Reese, but that she would not tolerate any further games or deceit. She'd more than proven herself to the both of them and felt she'd earned at least that.

Believing that she was ready for their first real assignment together, Snow agreed. Reese was glad that she'd returned, glad for the opportunity to work with her, and pleased that she hadn't chosen to stay away from him. She looked at him and nodded, an indication that not only was she ready to work, but she was ready to put the past behind them and move on.

Snow pushed a folder in their direction and they looked at photos of a man and his wife. He was tall, over six feet, Caucasian with black hair. His wife was stunning, a dark beauty, but though she was smiling in the photo, it didn't quite reach her eyes. They were an interesting match, Carter thought.

"Klaus Berger is your target. Forty three years old, German, lives in Montenegro. He's a banker and terrorist financier. He's holding his annual poker game and we're going to arrange for Reese to be one of the players."

"He's a financier and he's holding a poker tournament? Is he in some kind of debt?" Carter asked.

"It's been rumored that he's lost some of his clients' money. The tournament could be a way for him to win back some of those losses, but that's not what we're concerned about right now. We need to get close enough to him to gain access to a briefcase that is secured in a safe in his bedroom."

Snow looked up at Carter and she tilted her head to the side thinking she'd be the bait.

"I know what you're thinking Carter, but no. Klaus likes…couples, good looking ones in fact. But he's partial to interracial couples, particularly those where the wife is African American and the husband is White."

Snow showed them photos of Klaus in the company of a few couples, some over dinner, in elite clubs, and some in particularly compromising positions.

"What does he like?" asked Reese with his voice low.

"He likes to watch. He likes the women strong willed, opinionated, but submissive and dominated in the bedroom. I'm sure you two will figure out a way to get in there, get what we need and get out. Our only objective is the briefcase and what's inside it, everything else is secondary."

"And what _is_ inside it?" Carter asked. Her curiosity was piqued.

"That information you don't need to know. Once you get it, you deliver it to a contact at the Bay of Kotor. After you've dropped it off, you head to Rome. I'll meet you two at the safe house there. Reese is going to meet Berger at his estate in two days. You'll follow him at the end of the week."

"How long are we expected to stay there?" Reese asked.

"Long enough to get the briefcase. Berger's having a two week celebration of his wife's birthday, but you're not there to party."

"And how does the wife feel about his misogynistic tastes?" Carter asked.

"According to what I see here Carter, she's got some pretty twisted tastes of her own. She's a pedophile. Pia Berger likes young boys," Reese answered, and he handed her a photo of Pia with a boy who looked to be no older than fifteen.

"Go over the information together, your backgrounds, so your stories properly coincide once you get there."

Carter took an 8x10 envelope Snow handed her, and looked inside at the contents. There were passports for her and Reese, credit cards, bank cards and every possible document needed for the perfect cover. At the bottom of the envelope were wedding bands and Carter held them in her hand looking at the expensive diamond on her 'engagement' ring.

"Time to say I do," Snow joked, and left them alone in the room. His chuckle could be heard as he closed the door.

"So who are we supposed to be?" Reese opened his passport, looking at the name inside. "Hmm, Mr. and Mrs. John Tadic. Apparently I'm of Croatian descent. And you're…"

"Still Jocelyn," she replied, taking a peek at the information in her passport.

She held up a birth certificate, then another document and studied them both.

"Although…I was born in South East London…and raised in Washington D.C. My parents David and Marcia Palmer were from Jamaica."

Reese took the envelope from her hands, and put them along with the other documents on the table beside them.

"You can do this, Carter. You're ready," he assured her.

Carter smiled back.

"Well, _Jocelyn Palmer_," he said, taking her left hand, "Will you be my wife?"

She eyed him sideways and looked at him skeptically.

"Come on, it's time to get into character. The sooner we start practicing, the better."

She couldn't suppress a smile any longer and she nodded her head. "Alright, alright. Yes, _John_ _Tadic_, I will marry you."

He slipped the diamond encrusted platinum band onto her finger followed by the engagement ring with a solitaire pear shaped diamond in the centre. She stared at it for a few seconds before she slipped his wedding ring onto his finger as well.

"So…I guess we're married now."

Carter couldn't help but think how silly it all was, but in just a few short days she'd be required to think and _act_ as if she were this man's wife. The thought of it sent a sudden shiver through her. But maybe the thought itself wasn't responsible. Maybe it was the way he was looking at her right at this very moment.

"I think…." She started to speak, but his hand touched the side of her face and she couldn't finish.

"I wanna kiss the bride, Joss."

Before she could argue he bent his head to kiss her, and whatever protest she might have had died on her lips. His mouth wasn't insistent, but soft and sweet. just enough to make her long for a little bit more than the tender touch of his mouth as it moved over hers. She put her hand over his, and when their lips parted he kept her fingers linked with hers at his side.

"I'm sorry, Carter," he whispered as his forehead touched hers. "I'm truly sorry."

"I know," she replied. "I forgive you."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N ~ The mission begins in this chapter. Carter and Reese put on a show for Berger, bump into a few unexpected people, and share a taste for something sweet. Thanks to wolfmusic for looking this over and providing some much needed critique. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer ~ I own nothing you see here.

* * *

Carter wasn't fully prepared for the splendor and opulence that was the Berger mansion once she got to Montenegro.

The two story structure stood on three acres of property that boasted sculpted greenery and shrubs, tall fir trees, and was surrounded by vast mountains. The picturesque landscape suited it since the country's name itself meant _'black mountain'_. Inside there was a waterfall at the entrance, marble statues, and golden columns that stretched further than her eye could see. The tile under her feet was decorated with black onyx and mother of pearl insets. As her high-heels sounded on the ceramic floor, she felt akin to royalty.

It was just past 8pm when she arrived, and there were at least two hundred people littered about the ballroom, the buffet area, and a few couples were in the dimly lit areas of the terrace outside. The poker room was at the southern end of the property, and only certain invited guests were allowed in. She gave the name _Tadic_ and it gained her swift entry to the room. She was asked to wait just beyond the main gambling area while the doorman informed her husband that his wife had arrived.

* * *

Reese wasn't fully prepared for how stunning Carter would look when she arrived.

When he saw her, his reaction was both immediate and intense. He felt a powerful jolt travel straight to his groin. Her heavy mane fell in curly waves across her shoulders. She bent her head and a tendril fell forward. He found the simple movement of her fingers tucking it behind her ear incredibly erotic. The bright aqua fabric of her dress clung to every curve of her body, and the scoop neckline revealed a tantalizing hint of cleavage. Reese was blown away. She was nothing short of exquisite. She saw the look on his face and smiled, no doubt satisfied with the effect she had on him.

He leaned over to his right where Klaus Berger sat, and asked his host to be excused for a few moments. He indicated that his wife had arrived, and once Berger took in the sight of her, he announced a short recess of fifteen minutes. Reese thanked him and got up, striding towards her. He captured her gaze and held it, feeling his body grow hot with each step he took. Desire surged through him, and when he finally stood before her, he put his hands around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. She gasped a little in surprise, but her hand slid up his chest and she readily returned the kiss he began to take.

Her mouth was warm, her tongue smooth, and he could feel himself come alive when her fingers brushed softly over the nape of his neck. Through the sheer fabric of her dress he could feel her nipples start to harden, and although he wanted nothing more than to take her to a secluded spot to finish what he'd started, he reluctantly pulled away.

"Well," she murmured, breathlessly, "That was a very interesting way to say hello."

Reese stared at her lipstick smeared mouth, wanting to kiss her once more. She took a handkerchief from her clutch and wiped at his lips, smiling as she did.

"You started it," he replied huskily, and his eyes wandered over her body.

"Well, you told me to make an entrance, so I did."

He loosened his hold on her a bit and she turned sideways, sliding her arm around his waist.

"Was he watching?" she asked, and both their eyes turned to Berger. He had indeed seen the public display, and the gleam in his eyes was unmistakable. He was practically salivating.

"He most definitely was." Reese pulled her around to face him again, letting his arms slide possessively around her hips.

"How's the game going, honey?" she asked.

"I'm not doing too badly."

"How much?"

"Almost one million."

"Not bad at all. _Mrs. Tadic_ is going to have to find a way to help you spend some of your winnings. She may need a new diamond necklace….or two."

She playfully touched him, leaned into him and smiled adoringly as she spoke. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Berger approaching. Like a fish who'd taken the bait, he was about to be caught on the hook.

"Mr. Tadic, you must introduce me to this striking beauty. She has cast a dark shadow on every other woman in the room."

Berger's smile was absolutely lecherous, and Carter turned to Reese while she waited for the introductions.

"Of course. This is my wife, Jocelyn Tadic. Joss, this is Klaus Berger, our host this evening."

Carter took his hand and let him raise it to his lips for a kiss. He lingered on it longer than was necessary, but she was excellent at hiding her disgust at his touch.

"So this is the woman you've told me about. She's much more beautiful than you described. You haven't done her justice at all, my dear John."

"Thank you; you're too kind Mr. Berger. It's a pleasure to finally meet the man who's taken my husband away from me for so long. I get so lonely when he's away from me even for a day."

"I assure you, Joss - can I call you Joss?"

"You may."

"The pleasure is all mine." He turned to John, finally letting Carter's hand go and put a hand on Reese's shoulder. "I do hope to see much more of the both of you this week. As much as is possible in fact."

As he walked off, Carter fought to keep her smile in place.

"He likes you," Reese said.

"You told him about me? What'd you say?"

"A little. Just enough to whet his appetite. And now that he's seen you in the flesh…."

"He wants to know more," Carter said, finishing his sentence.

_He's not the only one_, Reese thought, and his eyes lingered on Carter's mouth as she spoke. The other players were gathering at the table again, and Reese reluctantly let Carter go.

"I'm going to hang around for a while longer, take a look around," Carter said, and he nodded.

Berger was calling Reese's name and he turned to see him beckoning him over. "Mr. Tadic, there's someone I want you to meet."

"I'll see you back at the hotel," Reese promised.

"Ok."

"Klaus, -" Reese turned to him, an intrigued look on his face.

"I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine. He's from Krosno, in Poland. Please meet Senator Dawid Belka."

* * *

Warning bells accompanied by red flags went off in Carter's head, when she heard Klaus introduce Reese to Amelia's husband. Carter turned slowly and watched as they shook hands. She scanned the room quickly, wondering if Amelia was here as well, but she saw no trace of her in the room.

When she'd called Amelia to return the keys to her apartment before she left, she'd told her that she and her husband were taking an impromptu trip to see old friends. She was on her way to the airport, so Carter promised to send them to her whenever she got back. How much of a coincidence was it that the Senator was here? And just how close was he to Klaus and his wife? Carter caught Reese's eye as he returned to his seat, and raised an inquisitive brow before her gaze turned to Dawid. He was just as suspicious as she was.

She slipped outside the poker room and headed for the buffet. Food was the last thing on her mind, but she needed to blend in, and joined the crowd of people with plates in their hands that'd descended like a swarm around the elaborate spread. There was food of all kinds, and she filled a saucer with fruit, cheese, crackers and meat before taking a flute of champagne from a smiling waiter. Pretending to sip from the glass, she walked outside onto the terrace to get a better look at the property.

In the dimly lit area outside, it was quiet. Besides the occasional laughter from a small group of people gathered on the terrace, the only sound that was heard was the flow of water from the stream in back. For a man who dabbled in terrorist activities, Carter was surprised that his house was not properly guarded. There were no signs of security personnel at any of the windows or entrances. People were free to go wherever they pleased, it seemed.

She came upon an area furnished with huge plush day beds, and when she got closer she could hear the muffled sounds of sex and saw a couple ignorant of everything else around them. They were in the throes of passion. She hurried passed them, and walked a little further until the sounds of the party had all but disappeared. The crowds could only be seen from a distance and she came upon what had to be the master bedroom. It took up two floors of the house, and had ceiling to floor windows. Sheer curtains were the only barrier to outsiders that Carter could see. The sleeping area was on the ground floor, and a winding staircase led upstairs to an entertainment area, and a portion of the room specifically designed to carry out every dark and deviant desire you could imagine. She stood near a column, making out the glow of a lamp just inside, right before it was switched off. Just then, she saw the shadow of two people; one sitting on the edge of the massive bed, and another kneeling down in front of them.

Carter set the flute down on the ground and put the plate of food beside it. She rose slowly and moved from behind the column to get a closer look. She hid behind one of the fir trees, and reached into her clutch to pull out a small night vision monocular with a camera. What, and who she saw next, made her sick to her stomach. Mrs. Berger's face was clear; Carter recognized the hauntingly beautiful woman from the photograph she and Reese got from Snow. While her husband was playing poker with his guests, she was playing oral games of her own with a teenage boy.

Carter looked away from the revolting scene, and scanned the room looking for the safe. No safe was visible to her eye, but right before the entrance to the walk-in closet, there was a large scale portrait of Klaus and Pia. Carter smiled.

"Bingo."

She'd bet anything it was hidden behind that framed photo. Having seen enough, she made her way back across the large estate and into the house. Just as she was about to head for the front entrance, Amelia walked in.

Carter swore, and walked in another direction.

She hid behind a tall statue, watching as Amelia worked the room, and caught up with a few people she knew. She stood rooted to the spot, willing her friend to leave the area, when a blonde not more than five feet away from her called Amelia's name. Amelia looked around to see who it was, but to Carter's relief, instead of waiting for Amelia to come over, the blonde walked in her direction instead. With Amelia distracted, and finally moving to the main ballroom, Carter made her way out the front door.

Things just got more complicated than they needed to be.

* * *

"…_that was an interesting way to say hello…."_

Reese was staring at the cards in his hand but his mind was still on the smell, the feel and taste of Carter when he'd held her in his arms just a moment earlier. She walked into the poker room like she owned it. Not only had she succeeded in getting the attention of Berger - the man who's attention they needed most - but she gained the stares and glances of every other straight male in the room as well.

She'd been ready, just like he told her.

He played the rest of the game, won a considerable amount of money and pretended to be interested in the conversations he was forced to be a part of. He'd found out that Dawid Belka had been childhood friends with Klaus. They'd attended the same boarding school and had been close for many years. He and Klaus had also been involved with a few business ventures including a new one that Klaus alluded to during the evening. They never outright spoke of the details while he was present, but Reese got the feeling that Dawid was slowly being enticed into dealings with terrorists just as his good friend Klaus was. There was also a huge possibility that he had a stake in what was in this mysterious briefcase they were sent to procure.

It was after midnight when Reese left the estate, and he sat in the back of a hired car on the ride to the hotel. Though he knew that he and Carter had a lot to discuss about their assignment, about Dawid Belka and the briefcase, he was more interested in seeing her, being near her again. He didn't quite understand it. He and Kara had worked closely together, played the part of husband and wife, lovers, many times over. But something was different. From the moment he sat down with Carter and Snow in the café in New York, something was different. She was like the taste of something sweet after having nothing but bitterness on your tongue your whole life.

_Sweets._

Coincidentally his eyes caught a sign outside the window on the street. He asked the driver to stop and walked in. The patisserie was just about to close, according to the young girl who looked tired but still managed to offer him a smile. He scanned the offering of cakes and pies that were left, and made his purchase. Once settled in the back seat of the car, the pastry box sat on the leather next to him.

_Sweets for the sweet_, he thought with a smile.

* * *

Carter sat in the hotel room in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed. The layout and floor plan of Berger's home was in front of her. She'd been studying them for the last half hour but her mind was elsewhere. The monocular was on the bed beside her, as was her dress that she took off but hadn't bothered to hang up. She'd washed her face, changed into a pair of dark leggings and an oversized t-shirt and sat on the bed. The TV was on, but the volume was low, it was nothing but white noise in the background. She looked up as she heard movement at the door. Seconds later, Reese walked in with a wicked smile on his face and a pastry box in his hand.

"What's going on?" he asked, as he shrugged out of his coat and jacket and threw them over the back of the couch.

She rubbed her forehead in frustration, and fell backward onto the bedding. "Ugh!"

"Hey, what is it?"

"We have a problem," she said looking up at him.

"Dawid Belka. I know," he said, nodding.

"Amelia's here too."

"What?"

"I saw her tonight, right before I left."

"Did she say she was coming here?"

"No," Carter answered, and propped herself up on her elbows.

"Did she tell you about Berger?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"She didn't, John. When she told me she was leaving town with her husband to see old friends, she didn't say a word about who they were."

"Well, Klaus has known Dawid for a long time. He's invited both of them to stay through the weekend, so they'll be at dinner tomorrow night. There won't be a way to avoid them. You'll have to act as if you don't know her when you're introduced."

"That won't work. Amelia will spot me from a mile away and our cover will be blown. I'm gonna have to have a talk with her before dinner tomorrow night."

"I have a feeling that Dawid might have knowledge about the briefcase."

"What?"

She listened as he filled her in on the rest of his evening and his suspicions about Dawid and his possible terrorist ties with Klaus. She wondered how much of her husband's extracurricular activities Amelia knew about. She realized once more that this was a whole different ball game compared to her work in the SEALS. She truly couldn't be sure who was friend or enemy. And just where did Amelia and Dawid lie between those two options?

_Where did John lie?_ She wondered.

He'd told her that he was her partner and she'd chosen to forgive him, chosen to stay and work with him. But could he really be trusted? She still wasn't sure. She wasn't entirely sure either if continuing the physical part of their relationship was wise. Still she couldn't deny the push pull that still existed between them, or the way it felt when he held her earlier tonight.

He stared down at her, and his face softened a little. In the soft light of the room, he looked so beautiful; the brooding eyes, high cheekbones. She remembered the night they spent together, and she blushed.

"What's that?" she asked, looking at the box that was still in his hand.

"Cheesecake."

"No, you didn't."

"I did," he said, smiling.

"John, why?"

"Because I know you like cheesecake."

"Ugh! Yes, I do," she said, pushing it away when he tried to put it in her lap. "You did your homework."

She rolled over and got up out of the bed, but he followed, opening up the box.

"I did. Have a bite."

"No."

"Come on, I had the driver stop so I could pick it up. The least you could do is try it."

She reached for the box and fork he now had in his hands, but he shook his head.

"Let me," he said, and held a piece to her lips waiting for her to open up. When she finally did, the taste of it on her tongue was amazing. It was good, better than most she'd had before.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome."

He bit his bottom lip and she stared at his mouth, wondering what he was thinking. Was he remembering their kiss? Was he remembering their night together like she suddenly was? The feel of his hands on her, how he felt between her legs.

She felt a flush all over her body and she took the pastry box out of his hands. It sat on top of the couch forgotten and she put a hand around his neck and pulled him closer. Earlier, he'd taken a kiss from her, now she was taking what she wanted.

She kissed him hard and deep, nipping at his mouth, tasting his tongue and he moaned. Her hands fumbled at the buttons on his shirt and she pulled it out of his pants. His hands moved from her waist to her bottom, pulling her closer so she could feel his arousal through his pants. Now it was her time to moan as she felt it brush against her so intimately, each touch sending a wave of pleasure to her core. She could feel her nipples harden, she could feel herself getting wet, and she could feel the passion that she'd ignored since Poland start to build once more.

He cupped her face and nipped at her bottom lip, before pulling away.

"Slow down, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled against his mouth, chuckling a little, remembering how she'd told him the exact same thing not so long ago. She kissed him back, leaning into him, and running her hands over his chest and back. His kisses were gentle, smooth and she loved how his tongue tenderly darted in and out of her mouth. He kissed her neck, and the flicker of his tongue on the skin there was so light, she almost couldn't stand it. Her hands moved to his waist to loosen his belt, and she zipped down his pants. She reached into his underwear to gently stroke him in her hands. She heard him hiss against her ear, the soft movement of her fingers caused him to pause.

"Joss…"

The sound of her name in his mouth was husky, deep and she pressed her lips onto his again. She pulled at his pants and underwear, drawing them down till they pooled around his ankles. His erection jutted forward, he was almost fully hard now. She dropped to her knees and slowly took him into her mouth. His hand touched the side of her face as she slid the flat of her tongue on the underside of him. She ran it over the head, under the rim and finally took him into her mouth once more. She moved slowly over him, drawing out the movement of her tongue over his flesh. His fingers moved through her hair, over the back of her neck and she heard strangled variations of her name. Finally he was slick in her mouth, in her hands, and he looked down on her before drawing her up to stand in front of him.

He spun her round, and his hands pulled her leggings down to the ground, and she stepped out of them. Her panties soon followed. He parted her legs and bent her over ever so slightly while one of his hands cupped her breast. While his fingers squeezed her nipple, he slid his cock between her legs and over her opening. The pleasure of his hardness sliding against her labia was almost too much to bear. She mewled softly.

"John, you -" she broke off mid sentence as he cupped her Mons and gently massaged her clit. His hand, his fingers, his cock, and now his mouth on her ear were all driving her to the edge. He bent her a little lower and she stood on her toes while the head of his cock hit her clit in an agonizingly wonderful way. Her legs were weak, and she started to tremble with want.

His hands freed her from her shirt and he pulled her upwards, turning her face toward his. His tongue moved over hers, a glorious feeling she thought. He kissed her deeply, passionately, while his hands and fingers travelled all over her stomach, her breasts, and filled her with anticipation of him.

He lowered them both slowly to the ground and she rested on her knees. He bent her over, planting kisses on her back, her shoulders and all the way down her spine. She fisted her hands into the carpet as his mouth moved over her bottom. She felt his tongue sliding over them, so warm and wet. When his mouth finally moved over her opening, she could do nothing more than gasp at the touch. His tongue lapped at her, touched her so delicately, so intimately. She squeezed her eyes shut as waves of pleasure moved from the bud between her legs to every part of her body.

"John…" she drew his name out and bit her bottom lip.

"I know, Joss. I know," he said.

He ran his hands up and down her thighs, but he bent down once more to feast between her legs. Over and over the feel of his mouth and tongue pushed her closer to the peak of ecstasy. Her body started to shake, she felt as if she was about to explode.

"Don't come yet, Joss," he said as he ran his hands over her back. "I don't want you to come yet."

He pulled her up again and her back was against his chest once more. She turned to kiss him, fisting her hands in his hair, tasting herself on his tongue.

"You taste so good, Joss," he moaned into her mouth while his fingers squeezed her nipples. He was drawing out her pleasure, building her up so painfully well. She reached around to hold him in her hand. Her body jerked as he started to massage her clit, and she moaned.

He reached for his wallet in the back pocket of his pants, and she heard him unwrap a condom. He bent her over once more and he entered her swift and hard. She cried out at the penetration and she squeezed him as he slowly moved further inside her. She bucked into him, spurring him on, and he finally started to thrust. He plunged into her quickly and forcefully. His movements were strong and deep and powerful inside her. His fingers massaged her clit and she was overcome with pure sensation. She moaned in pleasure, and it wasn't long before she started to come.

* * *

John felt Joss' orgasm as he moved inside her. Her whimpers and her cries both mingled with the grunt that passed his lips.

"Joss…"

It was what he wanted, for her to come while he was inside her. He pulled her up once more and he rested on his shins to cradle her in his lap. She relaxed against him while he continued to thrust upwards. Her hands reached around to stroke his thighs, and though she was weak from her orgasm, she still bucked into his thrusts. They were coming harder now, faster too as he sought to completely sheath himself in her warmth.

He bit into the soft skin on her shoulder as he pounded out the last bit of his desire. He massaged Joss' clit and a final thrust sent them both over the edge. His breath hitched in his throat as he moved his hips against her while he emptied himself. Joss whimpered against his seeking mouth and she reached around to gently touch his face. He wasn't inclined to move at all and his hold around her waist grew tighter.

She purred as he ran his hands over her, kissed her neck, and the golden skin of her shoulder. She was so beautiful, so lovely, he thought. He couldn't describe what it was he was feeling at the moment, he was afraid to admit that he wanted this moment to go on as long as possible.

She caught him looking at her, and she returned the gaze. She looked vulnerable, she looked afraid, just as he was, but there was something else there. There was just the hint of courage to go forward with whatever it was that was happening. He swallowed hard.

"Joss-"

She kissed him, interrupting whatever it was he was about to say. She put a finger to his mouth to quiet him, and shook her head.

"I know, John. I know."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N This is a transition chapter and so it is dialogue heavy. I felt there were a few things these two needed to talk about, but I wanted it dealt with and out of the way before we got to the actual mission and the danger ahead. I felt they needed this tender moment since things are about to heat up. Also, there was a tumblr post not too long ago that Chellero and Wolfmusic would have seen and I just wanted to tell them to use that visualization here since it's relevant. That is all. Bwahahahahahahha. So anyways forgive any errors or mistakes you might catch, and I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer ~ These things still don't belong to me.

* * *

Carter licked at the corners of her mouth, tasting the last bit of cheesecake and swallowed. Instead of heading for the bed after their lovemaking on the floor, the bed had come to them. Reese had gotten all the pillows and blankets and spread them out beneath them. He sat with his back to the couch, while her head lay on his bare thigh. She'd held his hands, he fed her cheesecake, and he'd pressed more than a few kisses to her forehead and lips. For a moment she felt like a woman on her honeymoon and not an agent on a mission.

The suite they'd gotten had done a fine job of contributing to that feeling. It boasted an enormous bed, a sitting area, a bar, and even a small fridge and stove. There was a balcony outside that allowed them a panoramic view of the city, which was glorious from every direction. The lights on the street outside combined with the flood lights in the room to cast a warm glow on them both.

Something had happened. They both knew it, but neither of them was willing to speak of it. She could see it in his eyes as he watched her devour every bite of the dessert. She could feel it in the way he touched her or how he reacted when she touched him. Something had most definitely changed tonight, perhaps since the very moment he kissed her when she arrived at the Berger mansion. She felt a bit scared, nervous even, but there was no turning back now.

His hand moved over her stomach and she looked up at him. He was watching her with a worried expression on his face. Instead of looking away, she raised her hand to touch his cheek, running her hand along his jaw line.

"Klaus kept asking questions about you," he said softly, and turned his lips toward her palm, kissing it. "He can't wait to see you being dominated."

"That was always the plan wasn't it? We have to get into his bedroom any way we can. We need to get to the safe any way we can," she answered him. "We know what he likes, what turns him on. Now we can use that against him. He won't be expecting it."

She knew the idea of them being intimate together in front of someone else didn't appeal to him. He was probably as repulsed by the thought as she was. Not only did they have to perform in front of a complete stranger, but she'd have to pretend to be turned on while John took control in a possibly demeaning and abusive way. Despite the nature of their job, he was still very uncomfortable with reducing her to nothing more than a plaything for Klaus' perverted tendencies.

"I don't have a problem with you being in control, John," she assured him. "I don't have a problem submitting to you in that way because the nature of this assignment calls for it."

Her voice was quiet as she sought to make him feel better about what they both had to do. The situation had the potential to get out of control quite easily. She realized though, that she was trying to make herself feel better too.

"The good thing about it is that he only likes to watch, not participate. I don't think I could be comfortable with his hands - or any other of his body parts for that matter - anywhere near me."

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to. It's up to you, Joss. The minute you feel uncomfortable, the minute you want to leave, just say the word and we will."

"I'm not sure Snow would be happy to hear you say that." Reese closed his eyes as she ran her thumb across his brow. She tried to joke, to cast a bit of humor on the situation, but she was just as apprehensive about the whole thing as he was.

"I don't care about Snow. I car…."

He stopped mid sentence, and she realized that their being together might compromise the mission and their objective. She never wanted that. She wanted them to be able to work together effectively despite how they might feel about each other.

"If there's anything I can't handle, you'll be the first to know. I promise."

"We're in this together, Joss. We're partners, remember? You can trust me. I have your back."

She put her hand around his neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss, and she smiled against his lips.

"Did you and Stanton ever play husband and wife?"

"A few times, yes."

"And were you a good husband?" she asked, grinning.

"She complained about me not showing her enough affection every now and again."

"So I guess I should feel honoured that you caused that scene earlier, kissing me in front of a room full of people."

"Let's just say that Kara wasn't the type of woman that inspired you to be affectionate. She was nothing like you. She was cutthroat, and cold, and she was ruthless."

"She was everything you didn't want to become."

He looked down at her and by the look in his eyes, she could tell she'd hit the nail on the head.

"How did Snow feel about her?"

"He believed that she was a good agent."

"But she wasn't one of his favourite people…"

"No. But he likes you, though."

She scoffed at Reese's statement, not quite believing it to be true. "I'm sure he does."

"No, really. Before you first sat down with us he was very impressed with your work, how you led your team. He thought you were the perfect candidate to be my new partner."

"Did he pick me because of this assignment? Because he knew that Klaus liked interracial couples? Did that have something to do with it?"

"Maybe it did…I don't know. I know the entire time he was watching you he never mentioned it once. We went over footage of your missions, how you handled each of them. He was more concerned about your being a female SEAL than anything else. He practically bragged about you and how you handled the interrogation."

"He did?"

She shook her head, feeling the memories of those four days flood her mind again. A wave of anger threatened to billow over her, but she didn't want to ruin the evening. He could sense the slight change in her mood and tucked his finger under her chin, turning her face toward him. He looked so apologetic and full of empathy. He seemed at a loss for words, but his silence said so much. He still felt guilty, still had yet to forgive himself. He slid his finger lightly along her earlobe, and she was warmed by the comfort the brief touch brought. It was time that they talked about it.

"How was it for you?"

It was a rhetorical question really. He knew just how awful it was, he'd gone through it himself, but he knew she needed to say it aloud.

"I'm used to gun fire, bullets grazing my head, bombs going off around me, but this…this was different. It was intimate, it was close…it was personal. It was someone treating me like…I was nothing but a piece of meat to be carved up and discarded afterwards."

She felt tears sting her eyes, she felt him reaching for her hand, and she knew she wasn't alone.

"Joss….."

"The bruises are gonna fade, they're just about gone now. But it's gonna be a long time before I forget about it. It made me angrier, cold. I think of the scenarios that Snow talked to me about over the phone during his first call…the things he asked if I'd be willing to do….now they don't seem as gruesome or as unthinkable anymore."

"It changes you," he said, and his voice was hoarse. "Which is something they never tell you. You're never prepared for it. This job changes who you are, you become a different version of yourself. "

"You don't believe you're still a good person."

She squeezed his hand, and in the dim light she could see tears glistening in his eyes. "You are, you know. The fact that you still struggled with what happened to me says a lot. It means you're not like Snow at all. Your soul isn't quite dead yet."

She got up to sit beside him and she watched as he gazed outside, his eyes staring at the traffic below. He was thinking about what she'd said, wondering about the worth of it all.

"I know that I'm different with you. When I'm around you, I _feel_ different, but…."

"Somehow you don't believe me," she said, and rested her head against his arm.

He put his arm around her, holding her close to him, and for a long time neither of them spoke. She was becoming like him, just as she feared in the beginning. The cold look in his eyes that covered up his smiles and the warmth that lay underneath was threatening to overtake her too. But he was becoming like her. Now the good in him was coming to the surface, now he was afraid of the light that had started to come from him.

"Well, I guess if _you_ can see it; there must be at least a little something left of the old boy scout."

"Well," she said, as she got up to straddle him, "That boy scout is far from _little_."

* * *

Reese smiled as Carter's eyes travelled downwards, before she raised her lips for his kiss. She put her arms around his neck, and his hands went around her back. Softly his fingers trailed along her spine as his mouth moved over hers. She ran her hands along the muscles of his arms, his shoulders and his face. She kissed him deeply, hungrily and Reese was shaken by her apparent need for him. She was so small, so delicate in his arms, and yet she wasn't afraid to match his growing desire with her own.

She threw her head back as he kissed her throat, and his fingers caressed the tender spot of her nape. Her hand moved from his chest and over his belly, till her fingers wrapped around his shaft. Her tiny hand gripped his already growing erection, and she stroked him gently in her palm. He kissed her hard, sucked on her lips, and he moaned when her tongue finally slid over his.

He was hers. It was all he could think of. He was hers, and with every touch of her hand she was staking her claim.

"John…" she murmured it against his mouth.

Her breathy moan of his name travelled to his ears and all he could think about was sinking into her warmth. She gasped as his thumbs brushed against her nipples, they hardened underneath his touch. She was reaching for him, touching him everywhere, moving closer and closer as if she couldn't get enough of him. Her hands on his cock, her lips kissing his; Reese felt as if she was the one doing the taking. He was under a spell, trapped, helpless, but he couldn't think of a woman he wanted more.

* * *

Carter felt like an overeager school girl desperate for the touch of her high school crush. Her hands moved over John's body trying to touch him, trying frantically to get closer. She couldn't stop kissing him, running her tongue over his, and felt overcome with the need to have him inside her again. He held onto her roughly by her hips and she felt desire surge through her. His touch was possessive, demanding, and it began a warm fire in her belly, a pool of fierce want.

"Joss…"

The more she stroked him in her hands, the harder he got. The more she stroked him to hardness, the more her anticipation of him grew. They were both frenzied now, both panting, and breathing out each other's name. Both were caught up in a haze of not only lust and desire, but something else that was strong and tangible.

She felt dizzy, euphoric, and she was shaking when he hadn't even entered her yet. He gathered her in his lap and moved to set her on her back. In the dark she heard fumbling, an impatient tearing of a wrapper and when he was near her again, she was frantic for his touch.

They both needed each other desperately, and the mutual release that could only be found together. When he finally took her, her legs were over his shoulders and he slowly pushed himself all the way inside her. She gasped loudly, turning her face to the side so she could breathe. She closed her eyes at the feel of him, so full and thick inside her. He let out a slow controlled breath, and reached for her hands at her side. She hissed as he pressed a warm kiss to the side of her face.

"Look at me, Joss."

His quiet command was strained. He was using a tremendous amount of control to remain still. He squeezed her fingers, his grip on her hand tightening, and he rocked their hips from side to side.

"Look at me."

She was finally able to grant his request, and he finally started to move. He stared right at her, watching her every expression, running his tongue just along the inside of her mouth while she gasped at the way he moved within her. She felt as if she couldn't move, but even trapped, she was a willing captive enjoying the waves of pleasure her captor was inflicting.

When she screamed out her orgasm, it was to the feeling of his cock pounding inside her. He was hitting her walls, driving her to ecstasy, and he sunk his teeth into the skin of her cheek. He eventually reached his peak too, drawing out his last strokes till he remained still inside her.

Much later on, they were both silent as she lay snuggled against his chest. His breath was steady and even, but she knew he wasn't asleep. There was too much ahead of them, and the view outside presented a clear picture of the brightening sky. Morning was upon them, as was the work that had to be done.

"You're not asleep are you?" she asked.

"No."

She sighed and turned around in his arms so she could face him. He touched her cheek, leaning his forehead onto hers.

"We're in trouble, aren't we?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yes."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N This chapter is somewhat long, and I contemplated adding more stuff to it, and splitting it up, but thought otherwise. It starts off in the present, then goes to different flashbacks, conversations and moments between different people. There are several POV's, Joss and John, Klaus, and Amelia as well. Thanks bunches to Wolfmusic for looking it over when I started getting nervous about it. Thanks to everyone who's taken time to review, it's much appreciated. Thanks again for PM's, here, on tumblr, twitter and on Facebook. Love 'em all. Hope you enjoy!

*Discliamer ~ I don't own Person of Interest or any of its characters.

* * *

_At the Motel 2:00AM_

The tires of the car came to a screeching halt as Carter pulled into the motel parking lot. Earlier in the afternoon she'd booked a room for her and Reese. Their things were already inside. After they'd gotten the briefcase, the Tadics needed to disappear completely. That included not returning to their luxury suite, in case someone came looking for them.

She looked over at Reese on the passenger seat next to her, and frowned. Both of them had been injured while fleeing the Berger mansion. While she'd been grazed in the arm by a bullet, Reese had taken one in his lower torso. Blood had trickled down her arm for the entire ride here, but Reese's blood loss was more severe. If she couldn't stop it in time, he would die.

She got out and went around to the passenger side, helping him out of the vehicle. She threw his arm around her and walked him to their room door. He groaned softly as she hurriedly swiped the key card and helped him inside. He let his gun slip from his fingers, and painfully shrugged out of his coat.

"Hey, you're awfully quiet," she said to him. She removed a velvet pouch from her shoulder and went in search of the first aid kit, while he stared at her from the middle of the bed. "Talk to me, John. Can you breathe okay?"

She took his shoes off, cast them to the ground, and took a look at him. His face was sweaty, his eyelids were droopy, and he looked pale. Too pale, she thought.

"Do you feel cold? Do you know where you are? Talk to me," she coaxed, as she unbuttoned his shirt and unbuckled his belt. "I'm gonna roll you on your side for just a minute."

She pulled the belt out from under him, and he winced at the pain. There was blood coming from an exit wound in the back.

"It was a through and through," he whispered hoarsely.

Once on his back again, his blood-covered hands slid from his wound onto the bed. She feared he was about to lose consciousness. She couldn't let that happen.

"Joss…" His voice was weak as she rummaged through the kit looking for gloves. She put them on, and he reached out to touch her.

"I'm here, John. I'm here, and I'm gonna patch you up before I leave to make the drop off, okay?"

"You can't go alone," he said, his eyes watching her.

"Well, as much as I'd love to have your company, I don't think you're in shape to ride along on the next field trip. How's the pain?" she asked.

"This old thing? Feels like a headache," he said, trying to smile weakly.

"I'm sure it does."

Carter got a package of *Celox gauze from the kit, and tore at the bottom edges to open it.

"How's yours?" he asked.

"It's nothing. I'll live, John."

"You did good tonight, Joss." His voice trailed off as he closed his eyes.

"No, no, no, no, no...don't go to sleep on me. Stay with me." She tried to keep the worry out of her voice. She had to keep calm. "John, open your eyes."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Sorry about what?"

"About tonight…with Klaus…"

It was work, it wasn't necessary. They both knew that, but still she began to tear up at his apology and the pained look in his eyes. She was worried about him, very worried. Everything he was saying right now reeked of goodbyes, something she wasn't yet ready to say, but she couldn't fall apart. John needed her to be strong. Right now he needed the soldier.

"John…" she said, handing him the belt. "This is going to hurt. Bite down."

This was routine, wasn't it? Except right now it didn't feel like it. Right now, her heart was full.

Ready?" she asked, and he nodded. "Okay."

* * *

Reese's teeth bore into the leather belt as Carter packed his wound with gauze. The feeling of her finger underneath his skin was excruciating, but he reminded himself that he'd gone through torture much worse than this. He could handle this. She applied pressure to it when she was done, and after five minutes she was satisfied that he wouldn't bleed out anymore. She rolled him over to take care of the exit wound, both of them silent for the entire time as she repeated the process. She took great care to dress the wounds properly, working quickly but efficiently. She gave him something for the pain, and bundled him up underneath the covers making sure he stayed warm. She put his gun within his reach before she closed up the kit and put it away.

"How's your breathing? Do you feel dizzy at all? Cold?"

"I'm fine, Joss," he answered, staring at her from the bed.

She unzipped her dress and stepped out of it, throwing it across the arm chair. She moved quickly, grabbing clothes from her suitcase, and threw on some jeans and a tank top.

She stared at herself in the mirror, throwing her hair into a ponytail, and almost as an afterthought, she remembered the wound on her arm. She hastily put some antiseptic on it, bound it up with some gauze, and dabbed at the dried blood stain on her arm. She downed some painkillers as well, promising that his would kick in soon.

"Amelia…"

He said the name that both of them had thought about, but hadn't said aloud, until now. She leaned on the bureau and bowed her head down, nodding.

"Amelia told her husband about us," he said, hoarsely.

Reese didn't know how long they'd been friends, but he did know that they were close enough that Carter didn't welcome the thought of being betrayed by her. He also knew that she wouldn't be comfortable knowing what she had to do now.

_The job changes you._ He told her that no later than the night before. _It changes who you are._

He knew she was thinking about those very words, right now. There was no choice in the matter, however. It was laid out for her in black and white. There was no thought, or question. There were no maybes. The answer was clear, and he knew it was tearing her apart inside.

"I'll take care of it," she said quietly, and sheathed her pistol in the small of her back before putting on a jacket. She strode quickly to the door, but stopped just short of opening it.

"I'll be back with a doctor to stitch you up. Don't die." She turned around to look at him, her eyes begging a promise. "Okay?"

"Okay."

* * *

_Sixteen Hours Earlier, At the Boutique_

When Amelia turned around in the dressing room, she was startled to find Carter holding up two of the dresses she requested, instead of the salesgirl she'd given her order to. The bills Carter pressed into the young girl's hands were enough to convince her to go take a fifteen minute break and give them some privacy.

Amelia's eyes lit up, she was about to call out Joss' name, but a finger to her friend's lips let her know this meeting was anything but a social one.

"What's going on? What are you doing in Montenegro?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Amelia," Carter replied in a hushed tone, slinging the garments across the fitting room door.

"I told you Joss, Dawid came to see his friend. They're celebrating his wife's birthday. They're having a dinner party tonight actually, and I've got to find something to wear. Dawid's known him almost his entire life. Although, I will say they both give me the creeps, especially -"

"His wife Pia, I know."

"How _do_ you know?"

"Amelia, listen to me. You have walked into a very dangerous situation, and I'm going to do what I can to make sure you stay safe, but I need you to do exactly what I tell you."

"I don't understand," Amelia said, shakily.

"I'm going to be at the Berger's tonight. When we're introduced to each-"

"You're going to be at the Berger's? How do you-?"

"When we're introduced tonight," Carter interrupted. "I need you to pretend that you don't know me. Pretend that you've never, ever, met me before. Do you understand?"

Amelia shook her head stubbornly. Carter could tell she wanted more details. She was used to getting what she wanted. She was spoiled, and had been all her life. Taking orders and being kept in the dark was not something she was accustomed to.

"No."

"Amelia…"

"No, I won't."

"Amelia, you _have_ to."

"This is for your job isn't it? Your new one."

The gravity of the situation suddenly hit her hard. Carter wanted nothing more than to tell her it would be alright, to try to comfort her in some way, but truthfully she couldn't offer any real reassurances. Things could go very wrong, very quickly. There was no telling what would happen tonight. The less Amelia knew the better.

"Who are you, really?" Amelia asked, looking at her almost as if she was afraid. Carter closed her eyes and sighed.

"Tonight, when we're introduced, I'll be Jocelyn Tadic."

* * *

_Five and a half hours earlier, Getting Dressed_

Reese felt like his fingers had a mind of their own right now. He'd spent years wearing penguin suits, dressing up for black tie affairs, yet he was having trouble tying his bow tie. He'd mastered hand to hand combat and how to shoot any type of weaponry that'd been placed before him, but this mundane task seemed surprisingly difficult at the moment. He was partly distracted by Joss, he admitted. She walked around the suite, partly naked, while she got ready. Her panties, if he could call them that, were very flimsy, and left little to the imagination. He stared at her as she slipped a gun into her thigh holster; the dark lace was a stark contrast to the golden hue of her skin.

"Having trouble with the tie?"

She walked up to him, and moved his hands out of the way. He looked down at her darkened nipples; the air in the room caused them to tauten. As she made quick work of the soft fabric around his neck, he thought of the feel of the hardened peaks under his tongue. She smelled of flowers, soft and light. Her darkened eyelids and coloured lips made her look mysterious and unattainable. She looked every bit the part of a wealthy businessman's wife. Her mouth curved into a smile as she walked away from him.

"You look handsome tonight," she said absently. "That razor has done wonders getting rid of your trademark scruff."

"Thank you," he answered, with a smirk, and took one last moment to stare at her round bottom before she slipped into the Kelly green floor length dress she'd bought in Poland. With five inch heels on her feet, she stood almost at his eye level.

"Can you zip me up?" she asked, walking over to him.

"I'd rather leave it down," he replied, as his fingers lingered over the zipper, and moved over her bare back.

"We'll never get out of here if you keep that up. Come on. Are you ready, _partner_?"

She held out her hand, and he took it, leading her toward the door and out the suite. He took one last look around the room. They wouldn't be returning after tonight.

* * *

_The Dinner Party, Berger Mansion_

"Amelia and her husband just arrived. At your one," Carter said, and put her hand around Reese's back.

The dinner party had been in full swing for the last hour, and wasn't nearly as intimate as Klaus first described. In fact it had ballooned to over fifty people, and more guests were arriving every minute. If the Bergers knew how to do anything, it was how to throw a party.

"And Klaus is at your ten, still watching us. I wonder who he's really attracted to. You or me?" Carter asked.

"I take it you were oblivious to the attention you got when you entered the room tonight."

"A husband with a silver tongue, I'm so lucky," she replied, looking up at him. "I think you should kiss my neck, and I'll pretend not to like it."

Reese did as she suggested, and she pouted, feigning indifference. He took her by the arm and pulled her to the back of the room, but he was careful that they were still in Klaus' line of sight. He pawed at her, pulled her hips toward his, and pinned her against the back of a column.

"He's still watching," Reese said, as his hands slowly moved to her neck.

He kept his gaze fixed on her. His eyes were intense, harsh. Carter tried to move away from him, but his firm grip at her waist prevented it. His fingers around her throat bit into her skin.

"Good," she said, and managed to wiggle out of his arms.

She walked away in a huff, and grabbed a glass of champagne from the nearest waiter. Reese took off after her, stalking in her direction, but a hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Tadic?"

Klaus' voice seemed concerned, but when Reese looked down, the bulge in his pants indicated that he was more turned on that worried about their little exchange. Mrs. Berger was on his arm, as stunning as ever. Her hands moved playfully over Klaus' nape, but she barely acknowledged Reese's presence. Though this celebration was all about her, Pia looked quite bored, and her eyes scanned the room. She was searching for something, or someone.

"My wife and I had a little disagreement earlier. She's still a bit upset with me," Reese explained, looking in Carter's direction.

"Ah, a lover's tiff, I understand. She seems quite hot tempered."

"Oh, very," Reese answered, with raised eyebrows. "Sometimes she can be virtually unbreakable. But I have my ways of making her bend."

* * *

Carter watched Reese over the rim of her glass and suppressed a smile. By the gleam in his eye and the look on Klaus' face, they'd done a very convincing job so far tonight. By the end of the evening and maybe even before that, she was positive they'd be inside Klaus' bedroom. Pia seemed distracted. Carter followed her gaze around the room, knowing she was looking for her next adolescent prey. She wasn't concerned about her husband's tastes or his plans for the evening. She had plans of her own.

Their first test however, was about to start. Dawid and Amelia were walking toward them. Reese looked at her, his eyes beckoning her to return to his side. It was time for Act One: Scene Two.

0o0o

Though Jocelyn Tadic had expressed displeasure with her husband's behaviour just moments ago, she stood by his side smiling adoringly as Klaus introduced them to his oldest and dearest friend, Dawid Belka and his wife Amelia. They shook hands, they exchanged pleasantries, but Amelia's curious gaze lingered on Carter and Reese long enough to gain her husband's attention. Out of the corner of her eye, Carter saw Dawid raise an inquisitive brow at Amelia and she swore under her breath.

"I thought you spoke to her," Reese whispered in her ear as Pia excused herself, walking in the direction of a young man standing by a marble statue.

"I did," Carter answered.

"Ladies, if you will excuse us for a moment." Klaus took Reese by the arm, ushering both him and Dawid away. "We have some business to discuss."

"Of course, gentlemen," Carter said.

* * *

_Conversations_

"He's not really your husband, is he?"

"Amelia, you're not doing a very good job of 'not knowing me'."

"Is he the man you started to tell me about that day, the one you have feelings for?"

Anyone who passed and looked at the two of them would have no doubt they were old acquaintances judging by the look on Amelia's face. Carter sipped on her champagne, trying to remain aloof and nonchalant about the whole conversation, but when Amelia insisted on her line of questioning, she put a hand on her shoulder and led her to the terrace outside.

* * *

Reese spotted Carter leading Amelia outside, a scene that Dawid unfortunately saw as well. Though he didn't comment, Reese knew that questions would follow when he and Amelia were face to face again. Reese commented on the party, the guests, and their shared business interests, anything to turn the senator's attention back to the conversation at hand.

* * *

_Later_

"It's almost midnight."

Carter spun around, hearing Reese's voice behind her. She stood outside near the pond, partly concealed in the shadows, but the glow from the underwater lights cast an almost ethereal glow on her.

"Yes, it is," she said, and smiled at him. He took her by the waist and she leaned into him, throwing her arms around his neck.

"I see Mrs. Tadic isn't upset with her husband anymore," he joked.

"No, she's still a little angry, but her husband is looking so good tonight she's willing to forgive his transgressions."

"Time to put on another show." His fingers lightly grazed her cheek.

She nodded in agreement. It was now or never, they didn't have the luxury of time any more.

"You ready?" he asked her, staring at her lips.

"I trust you, partner," she said, and raised her lips for his kiss.

* * *

Klaus was engaged in conversation with Dawid, but his eyes searched the room until he found what he'd been looking for. The Tadics were on the terrace, just before the pond. The darkness outside, and the column they stood behind provided a little bit of cover, but the passion between them couldn't be concealed. He felt his mouth go dry at the sight of John's hands on his wife's breast, his lips at her throat.

_Such passion_, he thought, _such fire_. He felt it surge through him as if his were the lips on her beautiful brown skin instead of her husband's.

His tongue slid across his bottom lip, and he swallowed hard at the very notion.

"Klaus," said Dawid. "Klaus, have you been listening to anything I've said?"

Dawid turned to see what he was staring at, and rolled his eyes.

"I swear, you and your…_special tastes_…are going to be the death of you one day."

"Dawid -"

"Darling, I don't feel well," Amelia interrupted, and appeared at his side, pulling his arm. "I want to go back to the hotel. Please," she pleaded as he frowned. She put a hand to her stomach and her face looked pained.

"What is it, my dear?" Klaus asked with mild concern, but his eyes went back to the Tadics and he frowned. They were leaving, heading straight for the exit.

"Excuse me, Dawid. Amelia," he said, making a bee-line for the couple.

* * *

_In the bedroom_

She and Reese had no real intention of leaving, but when Klaus appeared practically pleading with them to stay, John expressed his eagerness to get his wife back to their hotel. They'd gotten over their spat and wanted to make up. Klaus picked up on the fervor between them, the undercurrent of desire. He glimpsed John's firm hold on his wife's waist, the blush on her skin, and he offered an alternative, the master suite.

Carter had seen the bedroom the night before, but what little she'd seen through her monocular, didn't prepare her for the opulence that greeted them inside. Like an enthusiastic tour guide, Klaus told them of how he and Pia thought up the design, the fabrics they used, imported furniture, wood and textures.

He took them upstairs to show off the entertainment space, the plush fabric of the sectional, and when they crossed over to the darker side of the room, his glee intensified. No doubt he'd imagined her up here since the first moment they met. He reached for her hand and pulled her to his side as he talked about each toy, fondled leather straps, and touched on every object of erotic torment. His fingers tightened around hers, and Carter briefly brushed her other hand over his wrist, feeling his pulse race.

Reese walked toward them, and in an instant she saw his eyes darken. The hand that Klaus had held onto, he took back and pulled her away from him.

"Klaus, there's something you should know about Joss. As fiery and hot tempered as my dear sweet wife may be, she's quite uncomfortable being touched by strangers." Carter felt protected with her back against Reese's chest, and his arms slid around her waist protectively. She rested her hands on top of his as a silent thank you, and he pressed a soft kiss on her shoulder.

"Of course," Klaus said, looking at Carter with more than a little disappointment in his eyes.

"Your collection here is quite impressive, but these toys…these tools…would only bruise the petals of my delicate flower."

Without another word to Klaus, Reese took Carter's hand and led her downstairs, and they moved to the foot of the bed. Carter felt goose bumps travel over her skin, and shivered. The room was suddenly cold. Suddenly she wished for the feel of an assault rifle in her hand, the sound of a grenade going off in her ear, and to be surrounded by her platoon as they set off on another raid - anything but this. This was warfare that she wasn't used to.

Reese could sense her unease and cupped her face as they stood chest to chest.

"Look at me," he whispered to her softly, so only she could hear him. "We're the only two persons in this room, you understand? Focus on me, and only me."

She nodded her head, and held onto him, closing her eyes.

"I've got you," he said, before he gently touched his lips to hers.

Klaus' footsteps descending the staircase were the last thing she heard. She let herself be caught up in a bubble where only she and Reese existed. She blocked out everything else, and focused on his face, his voice, and his touch.

He kissed her hard, and his hands at her waist bore deeply into her skin. His tongue plunged in and out of her mouth, tasting and taking. His touch was rough, demanding and brash. He was someone else, someone harder, someone brutal and controlling. She pushed at his chest, gasping for air, trying to breathe. When he finally let up, his lips descended to her neck and his hands pulled her hips closer. He drew her leg up and around his, and she felt his erection, hard and pulsing.

His teeth sunk into the softness of her shoulder, and she gasped at the tinge of pain. There was no kiss to soothe it, no tongue to comfort. Instead his hands drew the neckline of her gown downward and he cupped her bare breasts. He squeezed her nipples hard, so painfully that she clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, suppressing the urge to cry out.

"No," she pleaded, trying to move away from him.

"Come here," Reese whispered.

* * *

Reese could see Klaus from the corner of his eye. He sat just a few feet away watching them, and his hand stroked his crotch over his pants. He was enjoying the display so far. Reese felt sick to his stomach, but at this rate, it wouldn't be long till Klaus reached the point of no control. He knew Carter was uncomfortable, as was he. He hated to treat her this way, to have her exposed like this, but soon it'd be over. He needed her to hold on for just a few minutes more.

He grabbed her by the waist and pushed her roughly onto the bed.

"On your knees," he said, standing in the back of her as she turned around. Slowly he undid his belt and looped it, cracking the edges as he moved closer. Carter's head was bent as she did as he asked. Her hair fell over her shoulders, a long, dark curtain concealing her face. Reese ran his hand up the centre of her back, over her scalp and fisted his hand in her thick locks. Slowly he pulled her up by her hair, and her dress dropped a little lower revealing a brief hint of her midriff. Her nipples hardened as he ran the edges of the belt against them, over and over in a rhythmic pattern.

Klaus clumsily stood to his feet and walked closer to the bed. The sight of the leather gliding over Carter's skin caused him to moan. Reese held the belt to her bare back and paused. The glare he gave Klaus caused him to move backward, and he stumbled onto the chair. His pants were unzipped; his cock was hard in his hand, and he started to stroke himself.

The fabric of Carter's dress was soft to the touch, and Reese's hands travelled underneath it, teasing her, touching her intimately. His fingers caressed her bottom, slipping past her underwear and moved between her legs. Back and forth he massaged the softness of her folds, seeking to elicit a response from her.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked quietly, while he slipped a lone finger inside her warmth.

She didn't answer but shook her head as a deep moan finally escaped her mouth.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked again, and his thumb caressed the soft quivering bud between her legs.

_Any minute now_, Reese thought as his eyes turned to Klaus once more. He was on his feet again, jerking his cock mercilessly, and his face was contorted in twisted pleasure. He was gasping, loudly, and his moans filled the room.

"Who do you belong to?!" Reese raised his voice, demanding an answer, and roughly pulled Carter upwards.

She turned around slowly, looking directly at him. "You," she said, and her hand covered his as it rested on her thigh.

"Ready?" he asked, his mouth near her ear.

"Ready," she answered, reaching for her gun.

Reese's long stride quickly closed the gap between him and Carter and their now enraptured host. In an instant Reese grabbed Klaus by the throat, and pressed him roughly against the room wall. He thought it was all part of a game, Reese realized. He witnessed a moment of glee pass over Klaus' face; he thought he was finally invited to a threesome as Carter's hand lingered on the inside of her thigh. His hand didn't stop circling his slippery cock until he felt the chill of steel between his legs. By then his breath caught, and a choking sound escaped his throat. He'd already passed his peak and he started to come.

Reese looked at Carter as she met his eyes, then they both looked downward. Klaus' fluids were all over Reese's pant leg and on Carter's hand.

"Did you just do what I think you did?"

Klaus didn't have time to respond to the question. Reese delivered a blow to the side of his face, and he fell limply to the ground.

"Disgusting," Carter muttered, wiping the back of her hand on her dress.

* * *

_The Belkas_

Amelia wasn't really sick, not physically anyway, but she'd attended enough boring family affairs, state dinners, and public functions to know how to fake an illness and leave early. Mentally, she was tied up in knots about her friend and her fake husband being the current objects of Klaus Berger's dark obsession. Dawid never outright told her about his friend's unique tastes, but she'd heard rumors, whispers of scandal, and she drew her own conclusions about where his sexual appetites really lay. Although she tried to concentrate on pretending not to know Joss tonight, she didn't miss the way Klaus stared at her, and what made matters worse is that it seemed that Joss and her husband were completely okay with it.

Everything she knew about Joss screamed out that there was more to it than that. She was after something else, and Klaus was the key to whatever it was. She wasn't a Navy SEAL anymore, but she was something else, an operative perhaps. But who did she work for? The CIA? NSA? Amelia wasn't sure. She knew Joss was a very capable soldier, she was tough, but there were no rescue missions tonight, no armor, and no bullet proof vest. She just hoped that whatever it was, Joss would make it out alright.

She unzipped her dress and quietly hung up it in the room closet and stepped out of her shoes. She walked over to the vanity, slowly sliding the diamond bracelets from her wrists, removing the studs from her ears, and idly brushed her hair.

"What's the matter, Amelia?" Dawid asked.

He'd been watching her since they'd left the Berger's. Her silence made him uneasy. His wife was normally animated, vocal, but he was unfamiliar with the somber mood she seemed to be in, even if she blamed it on illness.

"I told you, darling, I don't feel well. I don't know if it's something I ate, or…"

She hung her head down not returning his gaze. Throughout their relationship, he'd always been able to tell if she wasn't being truthful, just by looking at her. His all knowing gaze wasn't welcome at the moment. She needed to change the subject.

"The party was nice though. Pia looked amazing, although she didn't seem in the mood to celebrate much. She -"

"Have you met Jocelyn Tadic before?" His question was quiet, but his voice was firm, and Amelia blanched at his tone.

"What?"

"Jocelyn Tadic," he replied. "Your conversation outside looked rather intense for two people who just met."

He stood in front of her, searching her eyes.

"Da, don't be silly," she said, laughing as his hands travelled up her arm, and over her shoulders. "We were at your _friend's_ house, at _his_ party. She and her husband were _his_ guests, remember? How on earth would I know her?"

"Amelia, I don't know, but you are about to tell me."

Dawid had always been tender, sweet, and kind. He'd never been anything but gentle with her, but there was a look in his eyes right now that she didn't recognize. Whatever it was that Joss was working on, Amelia had no doubt now that Dawid was wrapped up in it, and so was Klaus. Suddenly she was scared, suddenly Dawid wasn't the man she thought she knew, and she swallowed.

* * *

_The Bedroom_

Reese stood before the painting on the wall, and the faces of Pia and Klaus stared back at him. It wasn't hung on the wall at all, but was part of the safe itself, and was mounted on a sliding rail. He ran his fingers along the sides, searching for the button to release it and finally found it.

"There you are," he said, but turned to Klaus before pressing it. "Now Klaus, what are the odds of a silent alarm going off if I push this button?"

He lay on the ground with Carter's heeled foot on top of his chest, her gun pointed at him. Reese raised his eyebrows at Klaus' enraged glare. He was determined to be defiant, and refused to answer. Carter twisted her heel into his chest, and he squirmed.

"Answer him."

"The alarm won't go off if the painting is moved."

"But…?" urged Reese, pressing the button.

"It will go off if you try to open the safe."

They watched the painting slowly glide to the right, revealing a safe that was built into the wall. Reese looked it over, taking in the specifications.

"Hmm, impressive Klaus…touch panel, fingerprint recognition…and an ID chip key. Give us a hand, will you?"

He roughly pulled Klaus to his feet, dragging him over to the safe. "You know what'll happen if you trigger the alarm, don't you?"

He furiously stared back at Reese, but the touch of the barrel of Carter's gun at the back of his head made him reconsider doing just that.

"I think I have an idea," he answered, bitterly.

When the safe door was open, Carter retrieved the aluminum briefcase inside. "This is heavy, John. Might slow us down on the way out."

"What's inside, Klaus?" Reese asked.

"You mean you don't know?" he laughed.

"Open it," Carter said. "Open it," she repeated when Klaus hesitated, and raised her gun to his head once more.

He laid it flat on the ground and unlocked it. A clear canister lay inside on a bed of darkened foam. There was a digital timer on the top and a 'Biohazard' symbol on a label in front. Carter carefully picked it up and handed it to Reese.

"What is this, Klaus?" Reese asked, as he held it in his hands.

"Something…that could trigger another world war."

There was an abrupt knock on the door, and loud screams to open it.

"We've got company." Carter quickly sheathed the canister into the drawstring velvet pouch in the briefcase, then slipped it over her neck and shoulder.

"Friends of yours, Klaus? Or friends of your pal, the Senator?" Reese asked as Klaus smiled. "Tell them everything's fine," Reese said, but Klaus refused, shaking his head.

"You'll never get out of here alive," he said.

Carter turned to Reese as he looked around the room. "We need to head upstairs, there's an exit in the entertainment section. It leads outside to a small balcony and down to the garden. From there we can head out front to the parking lot." She grabbed Klaus by the arm and forced him towards the staircase.

"John, come on!" she screamed, just as the door was kicked in.

She backed up the stairs using Klaus as a cover. Reese easily took out the first two gunmen who charged into the room then headed up the stairs behind her.

"Joss, go! Don't wait for me, damn it."

At the top of the stairs she dragged Klaus to the sitting area and pushed him onto the sofa. She opened the door but she hesitated, waiting for John even though he'd told her not to. John turned around as three more armed men entered, and she stepped forward, calling out to him.

"John, come on, I'll cover you!"

He'd already shot two of them and she fired at the last one, but not before he shot John in the torso. He slipped on the steps, and she went down to get him, helping him up to the second level.

"I told you to go," he grunted.

"I don't leave anybody behind," she said. "Speaking of which…" she turned to Klaus and shot him. She watched as he fell to the ground and turned to Reese. "Let's go."

She cried out suddenly, feeling the searing heat of a bullet as it tore through the skin of her left arm. Reese reacted quickly and shot the last gunman who'd come up the stairs, but he was losing blood rapidly.

They had to leave, quickly.

The partygoers had heard the gunshots, and they hurriedly made their way out of the mansion. There were people leaving from the garden, the ballroom inside, as well as from the game room in the back. Their panicked flight provided the cover that Carter and Reese needed as they got into their vehicle and fled the grounds of the Berger mansion.

* * *

_Present time, at the Motel_

John turned his head wearily on the pillow and looked toward the door. He heard movement outside, footsteps approaching. His hand moved over the bed linens in search of his firearm, and he clutched the cold steel in his hand, waiting. The footsteps he'd heard continued past the room door and down the pathway till they were out of earshot. He relaxed once more, grateful that there was no danger of being found by Berger's terrorist friends, but still he felt a little disappointed that it hadn't been Carter returning to the room. She'd been gone for over an hour and had yet to come back.

He wondered if she'd already made the exchange. He wondered if she'd been followed or even worse, killed. No, he thought, banishing the idea from his mind. Carter was more than capable, had been since the beginning. But so had Kara, and so had Wilson. He hadn't missed either of them; he hadn't batted an eyelash when they hadn't made it.

_"Snow says I'm lucky number three. You don't seem broken up about the fact that your last partner is pushing up daisies somewhere. Can I assume you wouldn't care too much either if something happened to me?"_

She'd been playful that night at her apartment, but even though her question was made in jest, he knew she was only half joking when she asked him.

_"No, you don't need to worry. There's something about you that makes me think you'll have a much longer shelf life than he did."_

As he lay there waiting while the moments continued to pass, he hoped his instincts about her were right.

"Come back, Joss."

* * *

A/N *Celox gauze is a hemostatic gauze used in the treatment of life threatening bleeding. After unrolling the gauze, you pack it into the wound and under the skin to control bleeding until the injured person can be seen by a doctor. It's used a lot on the battlefield by the military.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Thanks again for PM's and reviews and for showing support of the fic. Special shout out goes to Seemo. Sorry for making you wait this long. LOL. Enjoy!

Disclaimer ~ I don't own POI or any of its characters.

* * *

"_**I told you to go," he grunted.**_

"_**I don't leave anybody behind," she said**_.

When Carter got to the drop off point, their contact was nowhere to be found. The pouch containing the mysterious contents of the briefcase was a burden she wanted to rid herself of, and quickly. Her mind was on the events of the evening, having to bare herself in front of Klaus, and having to put her trust in someone who'd not long ago been a part of Mark Snow's plan to set her up. It hadn't been easy despite the fact that they'd slept together since, but she was grateful that he'd come through and hadn't let Klaus get to her. He was practically chomping at the bit to do so. This assignment was crazy, she thought, and they'd been sent there by Mark Snow.

_Mark Snow. _

She hadn't been sure about him from the very beginning. There was the wicked gleam in his eye, the smile that never felt warm, and the question on whether to trust him or shoot him. The longer she waited for their contact, the more she began to think that it was no mere coincidence that she was chosen for this job, no matter what John said. Not only did she fit the racial profile of the type of woman Klaus desired sexually, but Carter was sure, now more than ever, that Snow had to have known about Dawid's friendship with the financier, and he had to have known about her connection to Amelia. Either he wanted her and Reese to get caught or he knew there was a possibility they could be compromised because of her friend. There were questions that needed to be answered, and she would make sure he satisfied her curiosity about each and every one of them.

She inclined her head to the right, hearing the sound of approaching footsteps on the gravel behind her. She reached for her gun and turned around.

"Carter?"

The lone question seemed to come out of the dark, as did the dark figure slowly approaching her.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Newman," he said, walking steadily toward her. "You can lower that now," he said, looking at her gun. The streetlight lent some illumination to his face and his features became clearer. He was tall with broad shoulders, and an athletic physique. His dark hair fell over his forehead and curled slightly at his nape. With thick brows and a slight grin on his mouth, Carter thought he looked almost playful and not nearly as intense as Reese was.

"Newman?" she huffed out a low chuckle. Though she and John had been given the name prior to their arrival, her experience in Poland had made her a little suspicious. "So you do exist." She handed him the pouch and he loosened the drawstring looking at the canister inside. He seemed to recognize it, but didn't comment as he slid it back into the pouch.

"Word is you made quite a mess back at the Berger's," he said. "Shame I couldn't have been there to see it firsthand."

"And who told you that?"

"The local news, of course," he replied, looking around. "Where's your partner?"

"Not here," she replied coldly. "You have any idea what that is?" she asked.

"Yes," was all he said, staring back at her.

He knew, she thought, he knew exactly what it was. She looked at him expectantly, and waited for him to elaborate. His silence indicated however that he had no intention of doing that. Snow had told her before that they didn't need to know what was in the briefcase. She was sure the fact that they'd opened it would come up later, but Reese needed medical attention back at the motel, so she didn't press the issue further.

"It was nice meeting you, Carter," he said, as she started to walk away. She glanced over her shoulder at him, but didn't stop.

* * *

Amelia picked up her cell phone from the bureau drawer and walked into the bathroom. Her heart was beating fast as she dialed the one contact number she had for Carter. It rang over and over, but she got no answer.

After a heated exchange of words, she felt that Dawid bought her story about not knowing Joss. For a moment when he looked into her eyes, she thought he would push it further, but he didn't. After apologizing to her for being so abrupt he evaded her questions about what was really going on between him and Klaus. He wouldn't answer however, and left the room to make a phone call. He sat in the living room section of their suite and she could hear him speaking angrily on the phone. She wasn't sure who was on the other end of the phone, but something told her she needed to get in contact with Joss.

"Come on, come on. Pick up the phone, Joss," she silently pleaded as she dialed the number again. The voicemail sounded again, and this time she decided to leave a message.

"Joss, it's me, Amelia. I don't know what's going on with you and your _husband_…or Klaus, but if you're still at the mansion, you need to get out. I don't know what's going on with Dawid either, but…he isn't acting like himself. I'm really scared something bad is about to happen, and I don't want you to get hurt. Please take care of yourself…or at least -"

"Amelia…"

She froze, her heart hammering rapidly, but she turned around slowly with a smile plastered on her face.

"Da, you scared me. Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Why are you on the phone in the bathroom?"

The sound of his voice was even more menacing than it was earlier. His eyes looked thunderous, and she wondered at the phone call he was on. She was terrified as he started to move closer.

"Who are you talking to, Amelia?"

* * *

Carter pulled into the parking lot of Podgorica Clinic and got out. She was about to walk through the front entrance when her cell phone rang. She answered impatiently, wondering who was on the other end.

"Carter."

"Newman says he got the package."

_Mark Snow. _

His voice sounded smug, and she felt something inside her rising swiftly to the surface. It had been a slow build, forming tentatively within the moments when she first woke up in the safe house in Poland. The sound of his voice on the other end of the phone immediately sparked it, and its ferocity surprised her.

"Yes, he did," she replied tightly.

"He said you came alone. Where's John?"

"At a motel. He was shot."

"How bad is it?"

"He lost a lot of blood. I'm about to get a doctor for him right now, so I can't talk."

"There's an agent in the city. You can go to her for help instead. She's a new recruit, like you. We're using her for surveillance at the moment, but she's a trained doctor. She can help you out with whatever you need."

She didn't want to say thank you. After everything they'd been through in the last few hours, she felt he didn't deserve gratitude from either of them.

"Did you tell anyone else that you sent us?"

"What do you mean, Carter?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Mark; _Dawid and Amelia Belka._ Is it really just a coincidence that you sent us up here without knowing that Amelia and I were friends and that her husband is a longtime friend of Klaus?"

"While we were researching your background that piece of information might have come up, yes."

"And you didn't think to warn us about it? I'm beginning to think you wanted us to get caught, that this was more than just us going after the briefcase."

"About the briefcase, and you handling what was inside..."

"We had to leave under fire, it would have slowed us down," she answered dismissively. "_You didn't answer my question. Did you tell Dawid Belka that we were coming?_"

No, I didn't."

"Somehow I don't believe you, Mark."

"Well that's your prerogative, Carter. You need to get Reese some help. There's more work for you to do in Italy, so hurry up."

* * *

Sameen Shaw was a short, slim, but fit young woman. Her long dark hair framed dramatic eyes, a straight nose, and a full mouth. She was in her early thirties, with a cold gaze, and a commanding demeanor. When she got a call from someone named Carter who explained that Snow had said she would help, she jumped at the chance at getting into some field work. She'd been one of the best in her group back at The Farm, but instead of putting her out into the field on a case, she'd been stuck doing surveillance on an arms dealer for the past month. All she'd done was take pictures, listen to audio recordings, and document his comings and goings. She was bored out of her mind, and she was anxious to do more.

Joss Carter looked wary of her; as if she wasn't quite sure she could trust her. She couldn't blame her really, she too was suspicious of people she'd just met whether they were a part of the agency or not. There was a quiet restraint to her words despite the overall look of urgency on her face, and Shaw was intrigued. After Carter explained that she needed her medical skills not her combat ones, she was initially disappointed, but she figured anything was better than being stuck in the seedy apartment she was staying in. She sat next to her in silence as they made the drive back to the motel. They got out of the car and entered the room, and Shaw finally put eyes on her patient. He lay in the middle of the motel bed, bundled up and his eyes were closed. She dropped the big medical bag near the bed as Carter rushed over and stood beside her.

"Is he unconscious?" Shaw asked, opening his eyes to take a look. Suddenly his hand moved out from under the covers and he pointed his gun straight at her.

"Easy there, John. She's here to help."

Shaw turned to Carter, noting the gentle tone in her voice, and when she looked back at John, his face showed visible relief at the sight of her and he lowered his gun.

"Yeah easy there, _John_. I'm Shaw. You want this hole stitched up or not?"

"Joss," he said. His voice was raspy.

"It's okay," Carter said, and sat next to him, taking his hand.

Shaw couldn't help but note the tender undertone between them. Were they partners or something more? She took his pulse, and though it was a little weak, it was still steady. She pulled the covers off of him and peeled back the bandages that Carter had so neatly applied.

"Did you give him anything?"

"Something for pain, yes," Carter answered, and told her the dosage of medication that she'd given him.

"What about food, did he eat this evening? Had anything to drink at all?"

"A little something over dinner, some champagne."

"Okay," she said, and took out a few items and spread them out on the table in the room. She went into the bathroom and washed her hands vigorously, sliding gloves onto them afterwards.

"I'm gonna need your help, Carter."

"What do you need?"

"I'll give him some *Lidocaine, clean up the wound and apply the sutures. I just need you to monitor his vitals for me, his BP, pulse, can you do that?"

"Yes," she answered.

* * *

Based on the communication between Carter and the woman she'd brought with her, Reese deduced that she hadn't been forced to help, she'd come willingly. She was either another of Carter's contacts or Snow had sent her to assist. He guessed it was the latter. He was pleased that not only had Carter returned with a doctor, but she'd come back in one piece.

He felt nothing as she applied the stitches; the local anesthesia had kicked in pretty quickly. Carter moved her hand out of his and checked his pulse. While she looked slightly concerned about him, he sensed a slight change in her. Something had happened, and he wanted to know what. They needed to talk about tonight, what happened in Klaus' bedroom, all of it. He needed to know if she was okay.

Something was wrong.

* * *

It was almost 4am, and Carter left the hotel room heading outside with Shaw. She was tired, and what she wanted most was to get some rest. Shaw on the other hand looked as if the past hour had invigorated her. Her energy was different somehow. She was an adrenaline junkie, Carter guessed, and smiled. No wonder she ended up in the CIA instead of working as a surgeon in a hospital. Her time cooped up doing surveillance was probably driving her crazy.

"When does Mark intend to give you something to do?" she asked as they walked to the car.

"I don't know, but I hope it's soon," she answered, grinning. "Am I that obvious?"

"I'm afraid you are. Nothing wrong with wanting to get your feet wet, though. There's nothing like the thrill of being out there, deep in the action, feeling like you're doing something good in the world."

"Was this your first mission?"

"With the agency, yes. But this isn't my first rodeo."

Shaw looked at her, visibly fascinated. She wanted to know more. Any other night Carter would be happy to share stories of her platoon, their missions, rescues and close calls. Tonight, she was on the verge of numbness and wasn't sure how to compartmentalize everything she was feeling at the moment.

"If you turn out to be as good an agent as you seem to be at medicine, Snow will be lucky to have you."

"Thanks. But you didn't do too badly yourself. You did great packing his wound. Celox can be dangerous if you don't know what you're doing. Your partner is lucky to have _you_."

"Yeah we were both lucky tonight."

Carter looked past Shaw to the motel room door, thinking of John just beyond it. He'd be off his feet for a few weeks at least. They wouldn't be able to travel to Italy right away like Snow wanted. In fact, they needed to move to another motel, preferably one out of the city, and soon. They couldn't stay put. Someone would come looking for them.

"I wouldn't suggest moving him for at least another couple days. He's a big guy, but he needs to rest for a while, regain his strength," Shaw said, guessing at her thoughts.

"Thank you," Carter said finally, and opened the car door. Instead of getting in, she stood with the door open and looked over at Shaw. "Do you mind driving yourself back home?"

"What?"

"Just take the car-" Carter walked around to the passenger's side and handed her the keys. "Take the keys, and just….I'll pick it up sometime tomorrow."

"Sure, I understand."

Carter sighed, grateful that she didn't have to make the journey back across town and said goodnight.

"Hey," Shaw said. "I know Snow doesn't think I'm ready yet, but…with your partner down and all…I mean…if you need an assist in the next couple days…with anything...just call."

She nodded her head acknowledging the offer, and watched as Shaw got in the car and drove off.

* * *

Reese felt as if he would fall asleep pretty soon. Still he watched the door with sleepy eyes, waiting for Carter to return. It was almost morning, and soon daylight would start to peek through the curtains. He didn't want to fall asleep until she was next to him. He wouldn't allow himself to, not till he knew she was safe.

It wasn't long after Carter had left, that the door opened again and she walked inside. She closed it behind her, but leaned on the door, unmoving. She looked exhausted, just as he was.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I let her take the car. I'll just get it tomorrow. How are you feeling?"

"Tired, drowsy."

She nodded her head. "You should get some sleep," she said.

"Come here," he said, and she walked over to the bed and sat down.

"You could have died, John. If I'd left like you asked….you could have died."

"You had the canister, you had Klaus…it was better for you to escape and complete the mission. I wanted you to be safe. Besides, I was right behind you." He traced his finger over the stitches on her arm and she shivered at the touch.

"This wasn't a good idea, you and me..." she said quietly. As she lay down next to him, the heaviness she felt permeated the room. He felt as if he'd tainted her somehow. The light that had emanated from her when they first met was getting dimmer by the second, and he wished that he could stop it.

"I know," he answered, looking at her.

She frowned, and he couldn't help but wonder if she hadn't wanted his honesty right now. Maybe she was looking for assurances that everything would be okay. He watched a knot form between her brows and he swallowed.

"It doesn't get any easier, Joss. It's gonna get harder, much harder, in fact. Getting attached to someone in our line of work…it isn't a wise thing. It wasn't a good idea for us to get involved, no, but…I don't regret it…and I wouldn't take it back."

He wished she would look at him, but she kept her eyes fixed on the ceiling. Finally he felt a rustling on the bed between them, and she wrapped her fingers around his. He squeezed her hand, pulling it closer to him.

"I wouldn't take it back, either, John."

He felt a weight lifted off him, just as his eyes started to close. "I really want to kiss you right now," he whispered.

She chuckled briefly. "Go to sleep, John."

"No, kiss me, Joss."

A heavy blanket of slumber overcame him just as he uttered her name. He only felt the slightest touch of her lips on his before he finally drifted off.

* * *

A/N Lidocaine is a local anasthetic.


End file.
